Somewhere in the Gray
by TarnItUp
Summary: Face it- life's tough, and it's just dumped Ryou back into a life he once thought was left far behind him. With Bakura to complicate matters, they now have to figure out just what they want from this new life, and how they're going to go about getting it. Between friends, family, love, and power, it's the toughest decision they'll ever face, and may alter the fate of the world.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm officially a terrible person... I really shouldn't be starting this, seeing as how I have so many stories going now, but I'm going to go ahead anyway. This isn't going to be too high priority, but it should be updated fairly regularly or so I hope. Hope you like it C:**

**Summary: Do you believe in Fate? Because it just so happens to have big plans for Ryou and Bakura, who learn just what's in store for them the hard way. But choosing a side can be tough during the best of times, and in the midst of a war and Harry's fifth year, Ryou and Bakura face a choice between love and power, a choice that could bring them closer to to the darkness or drag them to the light. Is blood thicker than the ties of friendship? And in the end, will they stand with he-who-shall-not-be-named or the-boy-who-lived? Only time may tell...**

**Yes, my magical power is writing long summaries that don't tell a damn thing about the plot. However did you guess? Maybe I should go to Hogwarts, too!**

**Warning: the setting will jump around a lot, but you'll get used to it. Also, there might be some Tendershipping later ;D**

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**For future reference:**

Japanese

English

**(Will switch eventually)**

/Yami to Hikari/

_/Hikari to Yami/_

**Malik- hikari**  
**Mariku- yami**  
**Short explanation- there is technically no such Arabic name as Marik. It was originally conceived as an illegitimate combination of the two, and spun out of control. Deal with it C; This is a daily fact from your beloved aureate extraordinaire!**

* * *

He blinked his eyes open blearily, confused. He was relaxed, so very comfortable, and yet, he idly wondered why something felt... off. Something in the mattress, the sheets, the way the ceiling looked through a curtain of snowy bangs obscuring the chocolate eyes; it just wasn't right. He lurched upright, giving his head the smallest of shakes to clear the hair from his eyes. This wasn't his bedroom.

He was in a dark room, a single candle lit and casting dramatic shadows on the comfortably furnished area. The walls of a warm honeyed yellow were most certainly not the whitewash-over-black painted walls and beige carpeted floors of his own room. A fan turned lazily above his head, the blades creating the smallest of drafts, while the light switch was set on the off position. Wine-colored cretonne stirred faintly against the casement window, though the thick drapes did not let in even one iota of light. It was too cozy.

Where the hell was he? And for that matter, what time was it? His eyes gazed around the room, carefully scrutinizing and musing silently all the while.

A bureau made of dark brown wood lay bare on top, the topmost drawer open yet empty; his few things appeared to have been thrown haphazardly inside the nearby suitcase. Beside it, a lamp lay broken on the floor as if it were toppled with a certain degree of force behind it. A nearby closet held a shirt that most certainly wasn't his as well as Bakura's favorite trench coat, and a cheap analog clock hung on the wall, indicating there were a few hours till twelve. He was lying on a median-sized bed that was covered by a worn bedspread and several pillows. It looked like someone's guest room.

Now he understood, this had to be Bakura's doing. He did things like this sometimes, taking Ryou out to the middle of nowhere and leaving him to find his way back. Ryou was fairly certain he had a pretty good idea as to Bakura's motives; whenever this happened, he usually woke up with some new valuable tucked away somewhere, and it was up to him to find his way home. But nothing new was hidden in his pockets, and the fact he wasn't yet wearing the all-black outfit Bakura wore on thieving missions such as these led him to believe Bakura hadn't gone out just yet.

He sighed and stood up stiffly, his body feeling distinctly jet-lagged, and pulled away the curtain to try and figure out where he was, as well as if it were morning or evening, something the clock had neglected to tell him. Stars shown down in the gaps between scarlet edged clouds, barely visible in the late twilight's crepuscular orange glow. Rolling hills were painted a dusky green. Scattered copses of trees cast long shadows of finger-like branches clawing at east. Evening, then. But where...?

/Wiltshire, yadonushi. We're in Wiltshire/ Bakura supplied via the mind-link. Ryou jumped. He had thought Bakura had sealed up the link, it would have certainly explained the spirit's silence. Clearly, Bakura had simply been sitting silently, listening to the turmoil behind Ryou's dark eyes.

Ryou frowned at the window, sending a message of his own in response._ /Why are we in Wiltshire? No, wait, what are you stealing this time that's so important you had to travel to _England_ of all places?_/ he amended, his voice bluntly disgruntled. He heard Bakura chuckle darkly.

/I'm sure you really don't care, dear hikari, I know you. You are more concerned about how I even got you to England, correct?/ Bakura responded casually, appearing beside his host in a semi-translucent state. His arms were crossed and he leaned up against the window, the coolness of the glass against his back either unnoticed, or disregarded.

Ryou glared at Bakura, but still responded with a peeved, "Yes."

Bakura tended to stay within Japan for his heists; in fact this was the furthest from home Bakura had ever taken him. He might have woken up once in Egypt, but that was another story entirely, one where Bakura had led him to believe that Malik and Mariku were behind the trip, as they had stayed behind in Egypt for another month with Ishizu and Rishid while Ryou returned home. Ryou still had a few doubts regarding that story, though, namely the emerald necklace he found tucked in his pants upon his return.

Bakura solidified, taking on a corporeal body with the aid of a small dose of shadow magic, and smirked at Ryou. The boy sat back down on the bed with his fingers lying on his temples, readying himself for the barrage that was sure to be soon forthcoming.

A string of images flashed over the mind-link, snatches of disjointed conversation drifting to Ryou's mind to connect together and form a coherent thought. His mind's eye showed him what had happened, showed him Bakura picking up one of the two suitcases he used to travel and filling it with necessities, a few of Ryou's favorite articles of clothing- the ones he wore the most often, and the ones Bakura seemed to enjoy him wearing when he took over his body, such as the trench coat. Bakura filling Ryou's wallet with money pick-pocketed off of strangers; stealing a car and taking it to an airport.

He was surprised; Bakura had never been one for lies (he tended to prefer a more straight forward, if still surreptitious approach), but he had smoothly passed for the courteous Ryou pictured on the passport with an adept level of skill Ryou hadn't known possible, buying a ticket out of Japan while the hikari slept soundly in his soul room, a hint of shadow magic keeping his eyelids closed in peaceful slumber.

Bakura had effortlessly boarded the plane out of the country and had surprisingly _not _killed anyone on the flight. In fact, he had been remarkably well behaved, only habitually thieving a couple times, and then only from the carry-on luggage of people who were acting like real asses.

His flight touched down in London, and he took a train, a car, and walked the remainder of the way to the small bed and breakfast Ryou stood in now. The couple who ran it weren't mauled or ravaged in any way. Ryou was impressed. Maybe not particularly happy that Bakura had knocked him out yet again, but impressed.

Bakura sat down beside Ryou, leaning casually against the wall and enjoying the awestruck look on Ryou's face. What was that emotion stirring within his hikari? He felt it, barely. Was this what pride felt like when it wasn't pride in oneself? Pride in someone other than yourself? He couldn't say little Ryou felt that often; it was usually a combination of anger and disappointment. But it quickly dissipated, only to be replaced by yet another pressing question. "Bakura, what_ are_ you trying to steal?" Ryou asked him suddenly.

Bakura chuckled quietly. "A cane," he said simply.

"What do you need a cane for?"

"It's not the cane I need. It's what's inside the cane that I want." His tone was mysterious, almost wisecracking in the way he said it. It was as if the answer was plainly obvious, but little Ryou for whatever reason didn't understand.

Ryou gave him a funny look of bewilderment. This was certainly turning out to be an unusual night. "Well, what's inside of it?"

"A very special bone. Now get dressed, hikari, I'm using your body tonight."

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**Three hours later**

_/Remind me again why you're using my body and not yours? I thought you could make a temporary body for this sort of thing/_

/I would, but I believe I need your help, partly to act as a second set of eyes. This place is rumored to have tighter security than most. I wouldn't mind you watching your own back so I don't have to/

This surprised Ryou. Did Bakura just say he _needed_ him there? He resolved to keep a closer eye on Bakura- clearly he had eaten something and was delusional. Since when had he ever been so amicable to Ryou? It wasn't precisely friendly, but it was certainly without any animosity. Perhaps it was Ryou's ready acceptance of waking up 6,000 miles away from Domino, maybe the fact he had yet to reprove Bakura for this as of yet harmless stratagem, Ryou would probably never know. It was just a bone though, and it had to be quite small to fit in a cane of all things. How bad could it be?

At the moment, Ryou was sitting alone in his soul room, cross-legged on the floor and watching through Bakura's eyes as the thief slipped through the night. He was still wondering why Bakura hadn't just taken his own body. Granted, Bakura had to keep a certain proximity to Ryou while separated from him or else the body would begin to fade, hence why Bakura had brought Ryou here. But surely this house he was planning on breaking into wouldn't be so far away Bakura couldn't go alone?

_/Wouldn't it be simpler to just go by yourself?/ _Ryou complained. _/You wouldn't even have to be solid until you got the bone thing-y!/_

/That's quite clever, hikari-mine, and I do so love when you think such devious thoughts, but I don't believe that will work/ Ryou flushed at this, embarrassed to have said anything at all. /As I said before, I will need your help. If my memory serves and my sources are correct, this will require the two of us. Haven't you noticed? Our power tends to be stronger when we're inhabiting the same body, yadonushi/

And it was true. Materializing a second body took a certain amount of shadow magic, and that drained from the pool available for him to use. It was far easier to control Ryou's body; Ryou was used to it to a certain degree, and had long since given up on fighting the far more powerful spirit as his efforts to do so usually resulted in naught but inevitable failure.

It still surprised Ryou that he was needed, though. Bakura had always been independent, or so he had claimed, and said that he'd never need help. Ryou had taken that to mean 'no Ryou necessary'. The fact that he was witnessing this meant Bakura truly might need him, though why he had no idea.

They silently approached the manor, and Ryou's eyes grew wide as they took in the opulent chateau. A lavish wrought iron gate wound around the property with swirling matrices of deep black tempered steel; hedges lined the narrow drive with their mossy frondescence, moonbeams glancing along leaves painted a dark viridian by the night. Something about it touched his memory, if only briefly.

Curious, Ryou stepped out of his soul room to stand beside Bakura, becoming a diaphanous shadow of a ghoul at his yami's shoulder. Bakura took a slow, practiced step forward and froze, his eyes darting left and right as if sensing something was amiss.

/There's some sort of dark magic here. I can sense it/ The words drifted across the link as a quiet hiss, habitually quiet despite the clandestine nature the mind-like provided.

_/Nothing seems too hinky.../_ Ryou responded, drifting forward slowly past the gate. The moment his ethereal figure touched the metal, however, was when he realized how correct his yami was. His insubstantial flesh made contact with the black iron and began to burn. It wasn't a slow heat, no, that would be to simple; it was a white hot flash that coursed virulently through his body with the speed of a lightning strike. Ryou cried out in surprise and leapt back from the gate, clutching the hand that the burn had originated from and looking horror-struck.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ryou yelled freely to no one in particular, knowing full well only Bakura could hear him.

/I believe that was the dark magic I had mentioned/ Bakura replied, his face a well-controlled mask but his eyes glittering with amusement. A familiar fire lit Bakura's crimson eyes, the same fire that was omnipresent in situations like this. Danger was synonymous with fun in Bakura's mind, and a life without such risks as this was no life at all. This was where Bakura was happy, Ryou noticed.

Ryou rolled his eyes, throwing Bakura a sarcastic quip of _/Thank you Captain Obvious/_.

/You're quite welcome, Lieutenant Sarcasm/ Bakura replied in an off-handed tone, not looking away from the gate he was now carefully observing.

_/Well, how do you plan on getting past it?/_ Ryou asked, irritable and snarky though his pride stung more than his hand. He had just unwittingly become a source for some of Bakura's amusement, after all. It wasn't Ryou's fault he hadn't known, as Bakura had always gone on these little excursions without Ryou ever being the wiser.

Bakura leaned close to the gate, silently thoughtful for a moment before coming to a decisive agreement within himself. /Hikari, merge back. I'll need you to stay close/ he warned.

Ryou complied reluctantly, and let out a victorious grin when he realized Bakura had allowed him all sensory perception. He could see everything Bakura saw, feel the wind twisting knots into Bakura's already tangled silver mane, even hear the evening cicadas that chirruped all around them as if he were standing there beside Bakura. Usually Ryou was locked away, deep within the confines of his soul room. This was certainly a much better experience.

His arms moved of their own volition, and he quickly realized Bakura was summoning the magic first wielded in Ancient Egypt, back when Bakura had been the King of Thieves. Darkness coalesced around them, enshrouding them momentarily with the inky void of the shadow realm until Bakura released them, safely on the other side of the gate and untouched by whatever magics had enchanted the gate. Bakura still slouched, as though passing through the wards had taken it out of him a little.

/Still am/ Bakura growled when they were back on firm ground, responding to Ryou's unvoiced remark about being the King of Thieves and sounding as if he were genuinely insulted. /I don't particularly like this magic. It's almost.../

_/Cultivated?/_ Ryou supplied, catching on to the stream of thought and trying to seem like less of the hindrance he must have been.

/Sort of. Shadow magic is raw, but I understand it at least. This... this is like some domesticated jackal picked up from the desert that someone taught some freaky-ass tricks. It isn't the same magic I had been expecting/ Bakura reiterated, glaring angrily at the manor. /At any rate, it should be easier to get out than in, so there's little need to worry any more/

The house seemed even larger on the other side of the gate, looming over them like a hulking behemoth of elegant stone masonry. It was the kind of place Bakura would break into for shits and giggles, a place where he would go just to say he took something from there. Not to mention it looked like old money, something Bakura loathed. They reminded him of the pharaohs, lording their self-entitled legacy of power, money, and influence over others. He had about enough of their spoiled ways of looking down on him. Power should be earned, not something to be entitled to.

It was really the only reason he wanted total world domination in the first place. Simply killing that stupid pharaoh and maybe torturing that runt of his a little before his eyes, that might be just enough to satisfy a portion of his, as he considered, well-deserved revenge. World domination was the other solution, the one designed to usurp corrupt authority. Sure, he planned on he himself being a sort of totalitarian dictator spreading chaos throughout the world, but at least then he wasn't the one getting screwed over. He'd be the one in charge, the one powerful one, and he wouldn't make the same silly mistakes as that no-good Atemu.

He heard a rustle in the bushes and froze. A large, pure white bird strutted pridefully along the top of the hedge, a massive tail fanning out behind.

/What the bloody hell is a peacock doing here?/ Bakura fumed silently to Ryou, ignoring the boy's fascination with the albino bird in favor of slipping the rest of the way up the drive, silent as a viper in a den of sleeping rabbits. Damn rich people...

More enchantments were interwoven into the threshold, but these were far less numerous. Bakura's experiences that few people tended to lock a door that was behind another locked door were again fruitful. Their redundancy was to his benefit, and he found these lighter defense surrounding the front door to be no match for him. He dissipated them with a wave of the hand.

_/Doesn't it seem off to you that magic defends this place and not a normal security system?/_ Ryou deadpanned in his light tone, almost causing Bakura to chuckle.

/It isn't too strange. There may be many things in this world you and I may never know. So long as I can get around it, I frankly don't care too much what it is/ Bakura looked around the room with a greedy look on his face. There were many things here that looked like they'd be nice to steal, in his opinion. But he'd have to restrain himself, business before pleasure after all.

The front foyer was richly decorated with more of the grandiose decor that one would expect from the elegant façade. Bakura rifled first through a small umbrella stand by the door, a single-minded look of determination on his face though he came up empty in his cane-hunt.

His eyes darted left and right again, a suspicious movement Ryou realized was him thinking on his feet. /If you were hiding an ancient and valuable cane, where would you keep it if you were a rich megalomaniac?/ he asked Ryou suddenly.

Ryou blinked owlishly from inside his soul room. Was this a test, he mused? _/I'd probably display it where people could see it... If I needed it though, or thought I was so important I'd need to hold one to keep my reputation, I'd probably use it, keep it close/ _he answered after a ponderous moment of thought.

/Precisely, hikari-mine. We're going straight into the lion's den/ Bakura said with a malevolent grin, clearly relishing the idea. Bakura slipped further into the house, making sure the plush runner that lay over the stairs muffled the footsteps and stairs that tried to creak where he stepped. The open stairwell led up to a hallway lined with numerous doors; the largest, which were situated at the end of the hall, were obviously the ones that would lead to the master bedroom.

These Bakura headed for first, pulling the doors open so quickly the hinges had no time to protest, a little trick he had learned to keep up with the creaky doors found in most houses. They seemed to be well oiled, however, so the action was little more than a precaution.

A large bed lie in the center of the room, and snuffling sounds of the slumbering master of the house and his wife reached their shared ears softly. Bakura took a practiced, stealthy step forward, one at a time so quietly the two never stirred. Ryou quickly found that the grin pulling at his lips was not Bakura's alone as he took in the sight of an elegant silver and black cane lying across a bedside table. They would be out of here in no time, free to return to Japan.

/Ryou, take over/ Bakura said suddenly, an unidentifiable emotion coloring his tone.

_/What? Me?/_ Ryou hissed back in shock. _/I'm not! I- I- I'll get caught-/_ his tone rose with escalating panic.

/Ryou, do you trust me?/ Bakura asked, and Ryou felt his eyebrows rise in wait for an answer.

This gave Ryou pause. Did he trust the thief? This monster who had once hurt him, frightened him and his friends, even tried to take over the world? A thief who had abused Ryou as much as he had protected him, never leaving him alone? Did he trust this constant companion who taken the souls of old friends just so they could never leave him?

/Hurry up, hikari! We don't have all night you know/ Bakura urged, and Ryou made a split second decision. He took control of his body, and it didn't slip his notice how suddenly easy it was to reclaim what was his. Had he wanted to, he probably could have taken it back earlier.

But it was probably for the best he hadn't, as now was the time to do or die. When he was in control, it felt as though this was truly dangerous, it was finally real for him. Bakura had made it seem simple, he controlled Ryou's body with an effortless grace that accompanied the, in this situation anyway, level-headed nature of his yami. Ryou felt clumsy in comparison, every one of the few lurching steps sounding infinitely louder than Bakura's, and he dropped silently to his knees on the thickly piled carpet, lest he trip and awaken someone.

Why oh why did Bakura have to send him out? Ryou was nearly petrified by fear. He didn't want to do this! It was bad enough that Bakura had to be so bad, why did he have to drag Ryou down with him? But Bakura's voice was strangely reassuring in his ear, solidifying beside him in a body of his own to give Ryou instructions.

/Pick up the cane/ Bakura ordered, and Ryou's hand snaked up to snatch the hollow walking stick. He tugged curiously at the loose top, and gasped at the strange, finely carved stick attached to the inside of the handle. Bakura seemed surprised as well by the stick. /That's new/ he said before resuming his task. /But put it back. We're interested in the other end/

Bakura pointed to the flawlessly carved bottom, murmuring to it in rapid-fire Arabic until a tiny niche appeared, a small divot in the wood shaped like a half-inch-wide bowl. Shadow magic, just a drop of it, filled the tiny bowl with violet-black shadows. /Hold out your hand/ Bakura continued, reaching into one of the numerous hiding spots on his person and drawing out a tiny dagger with a needle-sharp tip.

Ryou's eyes grew wide and he tried to pull his just-extended hand back, but Bakura grabbed it by the wrist and pricked the tip of one of his fingers with the tiny blade. A bead of blood rolled down, lingering momentarily on Ryou's nail before falling freely through the air in a scarlet globule to land in the small bowl. Bakura did the same with his own hand.

It was starting to make a little bit more sense to Ryou now. He looked into Bakura's crimson eyes with some trepidation as Bakura began to chant in hushed tones. /Hikari, join me. Repeat what I say, but quietly/ Bakura ordered, not looking up at Ryou.

Bakura whispered in ancient Arabic, and the words floated across the mind-link to Ryou's mind, allowing him to join in with his own dulcet susurration. The archaic ritual words tasted of power on his tongue, and it was evident nearly immediately that it would take the both of them to secure whatever was hidden inside.

Ryou felt something stir inside of him, and the ring lit up. His eyes flicked between the circle hanging at his chest and Bakura's blood-red pupils, worried, his tongue stumbling once or twice over the foreign words in his trepidation. His fear grew, rising and bubbling up inside of him as he felt it, felt a dark power growing deep within his soul like some monstrous leviathan, burgeoning to a size so massive, it felt like Ryou was going to explode. He couldn't take it, he squeezed his eyes shut, moisture welling silently into the corners of his eyes and the chant rolling faster off his tongue.

Power rolled through him, some foreign force that felt darkly familiar passing through him. His soul gave an audible click when it shifted inside of him. What felt like a rapidly unlocking mechanism slipping into place in his chest had to have been the source, there were no other sounds in the room. Energy flowed out of his body, drawing from him until...

Until it stopped. Bakura clamped a hand over Ryou's mouth, effectively silencing the boy. The glow dimmed from the ring, and Ryou drooped; collapsing only to be caught by Bakura in the nick of time, before his head could hit the dresser. He felt so weak...

/Hikari, stand up!/ Bakura ordered tersely, hauling Ryou to his feet and pulling him out of the room quickly.

/Did we get what we came for?/ Ryou asked slowly, the words slurred more than he liked. He used his free fist to rub his eyes, trying to force himself into full consciousness, his feet struggling to keep apace with the longer-legged Bakura. He didn't see why Bakura had suddenly stopped, however, until his arm was nearly wrenched from its socket and he looked around, seeing a boy with slicked back, platinum blond hair standing in the middle of the hallway and brandishing a stick at them.

"Halt!" the boy called with all the authority of a self-entitled spoiled brat.

"Dammit!" Bakura growled in a throaty, animalistic snarl as he clutched Ryou close, the boy hanging limply, much like a doll, in Bakura's arms.

"Just wait until my father hears about this, you muggle!" the boy yelled, taking another step closer to the pair.

/Ryou, we're getting out of here, let's go/ Bakura growled, charging the boy and surprising him, Ryou still being dragged behind. As they passed, Ryou's eyes widened to take in the sight of the boy's face. No, the faint familiarity was not his imagination. He knew this place, barely. He dug his heels into the ground, slowing Bakura down a little.

"Bakura! Stop!" Ryou yelled, trying to pull his arm free or impede on Bakura's escape long enough to do so. "Slow down!" Bakura paused, a furious glare on his face. But Ryou wasn't looking at him, he was staring at the blond's face with a searching gaze. "Draco?" he whispered, just as another man with equally pale hair as the boy stumbled into view, brandishing the same silver and black cane as though he didn't really need it to walk. "Uncle Lucius?"

Bakura's facial expression melted into one of confusion as he searched for some explanation in Ryou's head, but none came forward so easily. There were too many thoughts, too many emotions going through at once to tell for sure about anything.

"Ryou?" the man replied curiously, his silver eyes wide and staring. A certain gleam edged its way into the irises, something bordering on confusion. His son turned to face him with evident concern on his face.

"Dad, you recognize him from somewhere? Who is he?" he demanded, his tone slightly imploring.

Lucius nodded, lips set into a hard line. "Someone I thought to be dead. Draco, say hello to your cousin Ryou."

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**Alright, really sorry for a lousy cliffhanger, short chapter, and that OOC Lucius there at the end, but worry not! I'll post the next chapter very soon. WARNING- Not all of this is going to be with the Malfoys. If you're looking for a Malfoy-centric fic, then look elsewhere. If you can handle the golden trio, then go for it :D**

**Also, I need to know this right now- do you want just Ryou at Hogwarts, or do you want Malik and Mariku there too? I really want to hear what you guys have to say about it. Also, how much tendershipping do you want? Lots to occur fairly quickly, or super slow and gradual? Or none at all, for yaoi haters? Like I said, I want input. **

**So review! ****It helps pays the update fees my brain charges me. They are actually pretty steep, I can barely afford them anymore o_o Please help?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for all the reviews and input! They've been a great reassurance to the fact that I've decided to include SLOW tendershipping and have Malik/Mariku appear only a couple times. I don't think they need to come to Hogwarts ;) Much thanks, all! **

**Alright, before you say anything, I know that Lucius is a jerk, but Narcissa is not. IT IS CANON, I can prove it with how much she cares for Draco. Can you imagine how much you would have to care for your son to lie to Voldemort? So of course she is in character, and you are officially not allowed to tell me otherwise or I'll… I'll… frown and shake my finger at you until you understand the depths of my intense dislike for you. Then you'll be sorry.**

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Japanese

English

**Told you it'd switch.**

/Yami to Hikari/

_/Hikari to Yami/_

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They sat in a drawing room of sorts, something that had, at first glance, resembled a casual living room, something one could find in any typical house. The archetypal niceties, a sofa with pillows, a roaring fire in a brazier of stone and steel, they were there. But in the metaphorical sense of house and home, this was not home. This was, for all intents and purposes, a show.

The couches that were arranged in a loose semi-circle before the hearth were stiff and highly decorative, as if they hadn't often been used by anyone. The pillows were black, made of fine linen and embroidered with fanciful silver silk designs that were quite valuable looking. The hearth was as spotless as the day it had been built, and the fire inside the brazier crackled cheerlessly. Ryou had seen livelier funeral pyres in Bakura's memories.

It was cold and impersonal, like a charade of what it should have been, should have represented. Yet it did not. It wasn't welcoming; it chilled Ryou's heart to a tiny, shivering thing just by sitting there. He itched to leave, and huddled against Bakura out of discomfort and a yearning for something familiar.

He tried to ignore the hungry, surveying look his yami cast around the room as he took in all of the treasures: the silver in great chests of colorful enamel shaped into intricate patterns where it was etched into wood, windows with chips of clear glass inlaid in a frame and revealing a pattern like a serpent, portraits in gilded gold frames that seemed to move of their own volition, and so much more.

It was silent. The only noise he could hear was the quiet stirring of flames licking along a log, the golden embers lying in the dusty grey of wood white with ash. He could smell the pungent creosote from the wood as the predominant scent in the air, mingling with the stench of adrenaline and the palpable tension that was pervasive around them. A shriveled creature in a dusty grey cloth pressed a china cup into his hand, steaming with a warm, strong scented tea. It was all but ignored by the boy, though he unconsciously clutched it close to keep the warmth it provided against the chill (so prevalent in this old house) at bay.

A woman stepped into the boundary of the room, a robe wrapped around her slim frame and her eyes shadowed by the bruises of a medicated sleep. "Lucius, what was so important you had to wake me?" she asked, her tone less than pleased. She sat with a graceful descent onto a cushion near her husband. Her eyes took in the boys seated across from her with surprise tugging at her brows. Her jaw was set. "Ryou," she said simply, looking into the boy's soft emerald eyes that gleamed almost red in the flickering light thrown off by the fire.

"Ryou," Lucius replied.

With a small cry she leapt to her feet, bounding steps taking her quickly to stand beside the snowy-haired duo. Her arms encircled Ryou, brushing against Bakura's limbs momentarily in the process. The latter shied away from the display of affection with a disgruntled expression, though Ryou accepted the gesture with surprised but tolerant poise. "Oh Ryou," she said, repeating his name with happiness laden on her lips. Her eyes twinkled merrily with joy, all but eliminating the typical bleak cheerlessness.

"Hello, Aunt Narcissa," Ryou said with a faintly amused tone to his voice. She stepped back from him, moving her hands to cup her palms around his face to get a better look at him. She tilted his face first left then right, as if she couldn't fully believe he was sitting in front of her. "How are you?" Her hands retreated to cover her mouth with a multi-layered 'X' of fingers. Hidden teeth sunk into her lip as she kept herself from saying anything impulsively as she retreated to sit beside Lucius again. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Is something wrong?" he asked kindly.

"Nothing's the matter," she said without much conviction. "It's just… it's been a while since I've seen you, that's all." A plastic smile grew on her face and her tone had a note of hysteria edging it.

"Narcissa, let's not mince words. Ryou here is back and quite alive. Perhaps we should just leave it to him to clarify the situation." Lucius stared directly at Ryou, Bakura for the moment forgotten as he stood and strode around the room still entranced by the expensive things. They seemed to be in no immediate danger, or so he calm waves drifting over the mind-link like soothing ocean waves seemed to imply. If Ryou knew these people and they hadn't yet realized they had been the intended victims of a heist, then all the better. He just wished he could understand what they were saying.

Ryou blinked once with uncertainty on his face. "What do you mean, alive? When have I been dead?" he asked.

"Your father told us as much six years ago. An awful man and a blood traitor, I never liked him much," Lucius grumbled.

"Six years?" Ryou asked. He swallowed thickly, and a bad feeling rolled through him. It was a dark, evil feeling, something that stung with a certain acrimony, like a bitter pill going down his throat. Bakura glanced at his hikari through the corner of his eye, though he still shoved a few treasures into one of his numerous pockets of the black cargo pants, a pair similar to the tan style Mariku enjoyed wearing, with an underhanded gusto typical for Bakura.

"Your father said everyone died in that accident," Narcissa sniffed. "Truly a tragedy."

Ryou's eyes fell to the rich persian rug on the floor, his breath hitching slightly in his chest at the memory. "I'd rather not talk about it," he said softly, his voice cracking once.

"Well that's hardly fair," Draco drawled. "You come to my father's house in the dead of night and refuse to tell us what happened?"

"Quiet, Draco," Lucius snapped.

The raw feeling grew worse. Bakura actually looked over at Ryou this time, confusion on his face. What had his yadonushi so freaked out? Clearly something was very wrong, as that terrible sentiment roiled through the mind-link and stung Bakura's gut like his own guilt. It was a very familiar sort of pain to him.

/Yadonushi, I demand to know what's going on/ Bakura ordered, projecting the thought as clearly as possible so Ryou could hear him even in his nascent state. /Who are these people? What do they want? And don't you dare attempt to try those shitty lies your so-called 'friends' willingly eat up like Ra-given wisdom. I'd like to know if I must kill them so you don't get me into trouble. Again/ The last part was said with a quick, heavy inflection, as if to emphasize how vital it was.

Ryou frowned at the rug and sniffled. _/Well… This, this is my family/_ he said with some consternation. _/Extended family at any rate/_

/And? Are they pissed at you or something? Are we in trouble after all?/

_/No! Of course not!/_

/Then what's wrong?/

Ryou's grimace deepened and his brows dipped low to hood his eyes with partially closed lids. His chin wobbled faintly. Moisture welled into his eyes. _/They thought I was dead. All this time, they thought I had died along with…/_ Ryou let the thought trail off with an internal choking sob, though he bit it back before it could escape. That sentence didn't need to be finished; Bakura already knew exactly what he was referring to.

/Ra-damn, hikari, you're too soft-hearted sometimes. Are they going to do something with us or not?/ Bakura said. His sour face was likewise contorted, though his was more of a frank expression of impatience than sadness. He wrung his sticky fingers through his knuckles, and a sickening crack was heard as the joints popped. He smirked satisfactorily.

Ryou wiped the sole tear from his eye and glared at Bakura. _/I doubt it/_ he said simply, miffed and yet mollified slightly but Bakura's curt response. _/But that's all you care about isn't it? That your perfect record stays untarnished/_

/But of course, yadonushi. That's all a thief like me really has left, after all. Love dies, but treasures are eternal/ Bakura responded with a sweeping gesture and a cheshire grin on his lips. /And you know how I live to thieve/

Ryou rolled his eyes at his yami. _/Because it has nothing to do with the fact that you just stole some of the silver and don't want to be discovered, does it?/_ he said sarcastically.

Bakura rested a thumb and forefinger on his chin in a thoughtful pose, his eyes rolling to gaze at the ceiling as if trying to remember whether that was the reason or not. The shit-eating smirk, though, told Ryou that he had guessed correctly. Ryou smiled a little in spite of himself. Then he beat the smile back. _/No, bad Bakura. Put it back/ _he scolded.

Bakura scowled at him and pouted. /No/ he said, turning his head. He scrunched his nose like a petulant child and crossed his arms in front of chest. Ryou found himself giggling a little at the childish display. His yami only glared unhappily again.

"What are you doing?" Lucius asked Ryou.

Ryou flinched, eyes flashing over to his uncle and looking embarrassed. He had legitimately forgotten the others in that short moment, and was sure that they probably thought he was crazy.

In the background a large grandfather clock sounded, a melodic chime rolling through the air just once. The clanging of bells formed a wavering, mournful knell, the peal echoing lightly in the room. More than one head turned to listen to the euphonious din.

Draco yawned, his lips stretching into a thin, taut 'O' before the chips of white that were his magically straight teeth. Narcissa kneaded at her eyes with knuckles heavy with scented lotion. Lucius seemed to be showing signs of exhaustion as well, his eyes bleary and tinged faintly pink by sleepless blood vessels dilated across his corneas. Ryou blinked tired tears of beaded moisture from his eyes, still visibly, if faintly, upset.

"One AM," Narcissa said softly, her eyes directed at the clock's face. "Lucius, I'm sure there will be plenty of time for explanations in the morning. Ryou, would you care to stay the night? I'm sure we can figure this all out tomorrow, darling."

Ryou looked over at Bakura. The yami seemed to be fidgeting where he stood, undeniably anxious to leave.

"Are you sure, Narcissa? The meeting-" Lucius began, but was silenced by his uncharacteristically assertive wife's hand raising just high enough to catch his attention, a gesture stating plainly_ 'stop'_.

"Ryou, please stay with us for the night," she begged.

"I don't have any of my things," Ryou said, the lame excuse rolling honestly from his lips. He couldn't shake the strange feeling he was getting from this place. It was as if something dark were waiting in the wings to descend from some hidden niche and rob him of his life, something that, in all fairness, reminded Ryou of Bakura in the strange sense of the malignant undercurrents running through them. There was that same coldness, a similar faceted diamond exterior that reflected everything and felt nothing. "And I couldn't just impose on you."

"It would be no imposition at all!" she protested. "Lucius, tell him. We can always retrieve his things in the morning."

Lucius seemed to have to think about it for a few minutes, but Narcissa's pleading motherly eyes slowly began to sway him. "Ryou, we insist you and your... friend stay for the the night," Lucius said, eyes watching Bakura out the corners as he stood whistling conspicuously.

Ryou blinked at them for a moment, and nodded slowly. "Well... if you insist..." he replied meekly. _/Bakura, we're staying the night/_ he informed his yami.

/What? Why?/ Bakura growled back. /I just pocketed a couple thousand dollars worth of stuff and you tell me we aren't walking out with it?/

Ryou looked at his aunt and uncle, the two shuffling Draco out of the room with questions of 'why were you even up this late, Draco?' and 'have you been up all this time?'. Narcissa gave him the smallest of smiles and beckoned to him.

_/I guess so?/_ The response sounded more like a question than an answer. Ryou followed his relatives out of the room and glanced back to Bakura._ /Are you coming?/_

/Yeah, yeah, don't get a stick up your ass/ Bakura grumbled, following unhappily. /If I leave now, you'll probably find some way to get us both in trouble/

They were shown the way upstairs with little further adieu, a sweeping hand gesturing to a door located in a wing just slightly off from the main hall. Inside the door was a room with walls of dark mauve accented with hints of an understated and elegant grey.

"Ryou, here's your room, and as for your friend..." she began, turning and pulling open the next door in the hall. "He can have this one."

"This'll do," Bakura snarled, unperturbed. He grasped a fistful of Ryou's fine silken hair and dragged him forcefully into the first room.

"Goodnight, Aunt Narcissa!" Ryou called cheerfully, waving as Bakura slammed the door shut behind them. Narcissa remained for a moment, staring blankly at the now closed door. Her hand, raised slightly to respond to Ryou's gesture, sunk down slowly. She turned away slowly and returned to her room, wondering who her nephew's strange friend was and what they were doing here in the dead of night.

* * *

Bakura collapsed flat onto the bed, sinking low into the mattress and dissipating slowly. Flecks of his body simply vanished, siphoned into the nothingness of the shadow realm as the magic holding them together was released. The indent in the mattress filled itself in as Bakura became the spirit he usually was. He groaned quietly, his voice fading to something only Ryou could hear as he became something only Ryou could see.

"Bakura? Tired?" Ryou asked him gently, the same general concern he showed to everyone evident on his soft face.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Bakura groaned back. He didn't look up from where his face was buried in the coverlet. "I didn't think it would take that much out of me to get past the gate."

Ryou let slip a tiny smile. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say the great King of Thieves is making excuses."

Bakura lifted his head and glared venomously at Ryou over his shoulder. "You know, for a hikari, you can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."

"It's my job," he replied sweetly, batting innocent green eyes at Bakura. Bakura only growled. Little more was said. "Well, did you get it?" Ryou asked after a long period of tense silence.

/You doubt me, yadonushi?/ Bakura asked, switching to the mind-link. He reached down into his pocket to draw out a brilliant green rock that glittered in the low light. He held the stone between his thumb and index finger, examining it with a critical eye before tossing it gently to Ryou. /Fair job, hikari. I'm impressed. Even if you did almost ruin everything/ Ryou blinked in surprise at the Bakura-complement, stopping just in time to intercept the new treasure.

It sailed in a perfect arc through the air, landing lightly in Ryou's reflexively opened palm. He stared. This was a bone? It seemed more like a flawless, massive emerald, nearly an inch long and carved into a delicately fanged snake head, teeth arching from the realistic carving's mouth as if they were real and ready to inject some lethal toxin into its next victim's body. The rock, however, seemed to be only the diamond-shaped head, and Ryou had to wonder where the rest of it was.

"Last time I checked, Bakura, gemstones weren't bones!" Ryou informed him. "What is this even for anyway?"

/If your ancestors had a reason to call a gem a bone, you can trust I have one as well. Now don't worry, I'll show you tomorrow. Or as soon as we get out of here, whichever comes first/

"You're being exceptionally cryptic tonight," Ryou pointed out scathingly.

/Get used to it, hikari/ Bakura said, but the glare was replaced by a small, derisive smirk. He let his face fall back into the mattress and relaxed, disappearing completely from sight with a low chuckle. The bed was left completely clear.

Only a split-second later, Ryou could feel the familiar pressure of Bakura's subconscious weigh on his mind, and he laid down on the bed without changing out of the completely black outfit. It would serve no purpose to do so, all of his things were back at the B&B.

He wasn't comfortable. It was still extremely cold in the house, and unlike the other room, there was no fire to warm his bones what little it had. His exhaustion-heavy limbs prickled with goosebumps from the chill and shook faintly now that no motion kept the frigid rigor at bay. He tossed and turned restlessly for the better half of an hour because of this.

But tired as he was, he couldn't get a wink of sleep. That blissful escape to nothingness he so longed for doggedly evaded his heavy eyelids as his mind rocked with its torrent of turmoil. He didn't know why they were here, really, past the retrieval of the 'bone', and had no clue what Bakura needed that silly little gem for, nor why Bakura had unwittingly chosen tonight of all nights to bring Ryou with him, when he was thieving from the family Ryou hadn't seen in many years.

And why couldn't Bakura have just taken the cane and brought it back? Bakura didn't seem particularly upset on the outside, but Ryou figured that inside his darker half was positively fuming. Of course, there was no way to really know because Bakura had always been better than the already fairly good Ryou at both closing off the mind-link and hiding his true feelings behind a clever mask indistinguishable from his normal features. He was so good Ryou even had to sometimes wonder if he even had emotions at all.

He found himself wishing for his beloved sleeping pills, the ones he took when thoughts of that malignant presence Bakura filled his mind with that inescapable quality it had. But those were back home, or at least in his suitcase had Bakura been considerate enough to pack them, a fact of which Ryou seriously doubted, so they did him no good where they were. That left him with but one option, the one trick he didn't enjoy pulling to lull him to sleep. His soul room.

Ryou still had issues with his soul room from the dueling tournament circuit in which Bakura had initiated his plan for world domination. It was also plain uncomfortable for him to visit. It was almost an out-of-body experience trapped inside of his own head. And it was also where Bakura happened to be at his most powerful.

But when no one was in possession of his body, he naturally slipped into a sleep-like state, and that would have to suffice. His jet-lagged body seemed to particularly enjoy reminding him of this fact.

He and the other hikaris had once discussed their soul rooms and found few similarities amongst them. The differences between each of them were as numerous as the differences between day and night, hikari and yami. Rooms were a reflection of personality and life experiences, the closeness of the inhabitants with those they loved.

It was why Yuugi's was a child's playroom while Atemu's was a confusing, Labyrinth-like room that was as convoluted as his thoughts as to who he was.

But they had separate rooms, were separate people. Malik and Mariku perfectly shared an underground tomb for a soul room, as Mariku was a manifestation of all of Malik's hate. He just happened to be able to wield the millennium rod better than Malik himself.

But their room fit them, with its gap in the ceiling showing a patch of sky blue and enough torches to satiate an angry lynch mob for years. Their history decorated the walls in hieroglyphics. It made sense as much as Yuugi and Atemu's did. All of Malik's old fears and hatred were buried safely away in there, trapped on those walls where the firelight could always illuminate the darkness.

Ryou and Bakura, however, had an especially peculiar room. It looked just like a person's bedroom, although twisted by what could only be described as a mockery of a mirror. It was, in fact, only one room, separated down the middle by a translucent barrier, invisible unless one were to touch it. Then, the walls lit up faintly and made the small patch that had been contacted visible. Although it wasn't particularly necessary, as it was fairly obvious where the barrier stood.

On either side, the room had a stark difference. Ryou's side had walls and floors of pure white, and everything seemed to be lit from within, including the furniture yet excluding the bed, which had the barrier running directly down the middle of it. His side had black silk sheets and a matching pillow, yet his half of the headboard was still a snowy white. Any and all accents were of a pale blue color. His side was neat and organized, almost obsessively so.

The walls were also hung with familiar portraits from various times. Drawings of faintly smudged charcoal and photographs of times gone by were mementos of another lifetime, one he still wasn't fully sure he had escaped from yet. He knew that his sister and mother were long gone, buried in a cemetery not far from here, and that the pictures hanging inside his head by little blue thumbtacks were all that he had left to remember them.

But the portraits, the red-toned paper coated liberally in the black and white pencil, were the same sort of distressed balance of light and dark still waging war inside his head. Frenetic scribbles made up more of the design than real drawings, so much so that one could only see the true breathtaking tragedy in them when they stood quite far away. There was a certain lingering sadness in each of them, a resigned and yet still fighting sort of hope. A marionette of white light was tugged along by a dark puppeteer, a ghostly white figure with a shadow of dark smudges.

These were him, in essence. It only fit that they lined his walls, the pure white right up until the blunt shift to black that signified the Yami no Bakura's presence in the hikari's mind.

Bakura had walls of the darkest black, matte and without any shine whatsoever. His half of the bed had sheets as white as the rest of Ryou's room and was accented with a red the color of blood. It was sloppy like a magpie's nest, what with its countless shiny treasures from when Bakura had forgotten them in his pockets and turned them out upon arrival. Ryou could see a pile of silverware and other assorted objects on a small table.

Yet somehow, there was a sort of organized chaos, the sort that if anyone other than its owner stepped in, they would find themselves buried to their neck, Bakura cackling at them from wherever he had happened to know it was safe. Bakura never seemed to lose anything, for that matter, either.

These walls were painted with more of the red in suspicious patterns like blood, and the gory hand prints in the corner were smaller than even Ryou's hands. He didn't know whose they were, but they gave him a bad feeling.

To the unpracticed eye, it might have looked like the result of taking two perfectly opposite rooms and meshed them together, but Ryou knew better. It was a perfect balance, like yin and yang. Light and Dark, in every way. Yet it was also severely divided. And that was partially a blessing.

He found himself in this very soul room, his black garments exchanged with a pair of comfortable flannel pants of a teal, large-print plaid and a comfortable white tee. What? This was an imaginary location, an alternate dimension found only in Ryou's brain. He could wear whatever damn well pleased him. He only had to be quiet enough to not disturb the already sleeping Bakura...

He buried himself under the black sheets, curling up with his back against the wall and his head nuzzled into the pillow. It was much more comfortable now, his sleep would be dreamless and his thoughts were free to expound and expand under whatever guidance Ryou provided, not the involuntary streams he often felt. It was remarkably easy for him to finally drift off.

* * *

/Ryou/

The voice was like a whisper. Ryou rolled over and clutched the silken sheets closer to his cheek, snuggling deeper into the warmth.

/Ryou!/

There was more force behind it this time, and Ryou mumbled something that sounded vaguely like '5 more minutes'.

/GET THE FUCK UP, RYOU/ a voice screamed in his head, and Ryou's eyes snapped open abruptly. Two bloody eyes gleamed out of the sheet across from him, shining like that of an owls. But the tree hollow hideaway was nothing more than a swathe of ivory fabric, casting a dark shadow over the face in the low light of the windowless room; the eyes were only the scarlet irises of Bakura. It was not a pleasant sight to awaken to by any means.

Ryou flinched in shock and fell backward off the bed in a sprawling pile of limbs and plaid fabric.

_/What is it?/_ Ryou groaned, massaging the back of his head and feeling the tiny lump where his head had smacked the slick ground. He sat up and peered over the edge of the bed to frown at Bakura.

A mischievous smile spawned on Bakura's face, the kind of look that reminded Ryou of the cat that not only ate the canary, but also drowned the goldfish and trapped the dog on the porch behind a sliding screen door. He swallowed once, but Bakura only laughed at him.

/Someone's at the door. They'd think something was up if I answered and not you/ Bakura responded casually. Ryou stood and nodded stiffly, letting his head fall back with a sleepy groan as he reclaimed his prone body. /Have fun, hikari/ Bakura said sardonically, waving faintly as Ryou left.

When he had regained control, he knitted his fingers together and flexed his hands above his head, stretching his arms and popping the taut joints. He heard a knock at the door, the slightly insistent sound of someone who had clearly been at it for a short while. He pulled himself from the bed in slightly stiff clothes and pulled the door open. His cousin stood on the other side of the door with a suitcase in hand and a glower on his face. His eyes suddenly widened and he seemed to struggle to rearrange his features into a normal mask.

"Here's your stuff," the boy drawled, thrusting the telescoping handle out to Ryou to take hold of. "Our elf picked it up for you. Mother says to come down to breakfast after you're dressed."

He turned to leave, but Ryou made a small noise of questioning protest and he paused. "What do you mean, elf?" Ryou asked.

"Elf. House elf. Obviously," Draco said in an supercilious tone. "I only wish we still had another to do this. You know your bag is heavy? What do you even have in there?"

"Um... Stuff," Ryou said simply, not knowing himself the full contents of the bag. He knelt and unzipped it quickly, gasping in delight as he saw his deck strung through an elastic band. "Oh, thanks Bakura!" he cried out, mostly to himself, in delight. The cards quickly found themselves clutched close to Ryou's chest between the long 'V' of the leather cord where his millennium ring hung suspended.

"What are those?" Draco asked him.

Ryou grinned ecstatically and held them where his cousin could see them, fanning them out so the tops were visible. "My deck. It's for a card game called Duel Monsters that's huge in Japan. It's really fun, and tons of people turn out to watch the tournaments."

"Duel Monsters? You mean muggles pay money to watch card games?" his cousin asked incredulously.

"That depends, what's a muggle?"

"Non-magical folk. People who aren't wizards."

"Oh, um... then yes. Uh... Well, I can show you how to play after breakfast, if you want," Ryou offered. "Bakura might even show you how he plays it, if you aren't scared of losing your soul."

Draco blinked at him. "Seriously?" he asked with genuine interest finally stirring in his tone.

Ryou beat back a small smile. Somehow he had known mentioning Bakura's fascination with dark magic would interest the boy, he had a bit of a knack for knowing things like that. He also knew a little bit about the Malfoys from his father, and while most of it wasn't that great, he liked to give people the benefit of the doubt. Likewise, he did want to make a good first impression. "He likes to use magic a lot to play it," Ryou added, just to make it a little more interesting.

"Sounds... fun." A genuine smile was on his cousin's face. Then it vanished under stiff formality. "Mother said come on down when you're ready. Take all the time you need," he said, turning again to leave. Ryou smiled to himself for a second. It would be quite nice if he could get his cousin to like him, or so Ryou figured.

Ryou shrugged and closed the door, rifling again through the bag until he found his favorite clothes. When he looked up, he saw Bakura lounging on the bed and wearing something completely new. That was the power of shadow magic. The body wasn't technically real, nor were the clothes, but they could have passed for the real thing with ease and been indistinguishable until the magic holding them together was released.

Bakura wore his usual tight leather pants, black, combat-esque boots, and a short-sleeved black t-shirt with a red insignia-like pattern embossed on the front. The copy of the millennium ring he almost always wore glinted on his chest. His hair looked unbrushed and every bit as bedraggled as it had been in the soul room, particularly the two spiky horned formations that lifted off his scalp. A funny smile was on his face, and he pointed to a mirror on the wall.

Nonplussed, Ryou walked over to the mirror and groaned in embarrassment. He looked like a raccoon, eyes ringed by a mask of smudged kohl that made him look ridiculous. "Why didn't you tell me I looked like this?" Ryou asked him, pouting.

"It was funnier this way," Bakura replied simply. Ryou could almost see canary yellow feathers poking out of that cheshire grin. He grumbled quietly and rubbed at his eyes, seeing it as a lost cause and stumbling into the adjoining bathroom to wash it off with water.

Bakura chuckled quietly to himself and laid back. Suddenly, he was glad Malik had given his hikari that eyeliner stuff, insisting that men in Egypt always wore it and pouting when Ryou didn't wear it. Now Ryou habitually wore it all the time, and sometimes he forgot about it, giving Bakura something amusing to look at when it smudged. Nothing is more entertaining, after all, than an unwitting victim of the dreaded raccoon eyes.

He sniffed once at the air and smiled serenely. The scent of cooked meat, not as good as rare but still altogether delicious, wafted up to him and tantalized his nose with the prospects of bacon and eggs and pancakes. He followed the scent willingly, leaving his hikari behind to dress in peace.

How he managed to end up lost, then outside, he would have no feasible way of explaining away. Perhaps it hadn't been a good idea for him to search for the source of that weird-ass darkness that was cramping his style. Nor, for that matter, chase the albino peacock with a knife after it nearly speared him with its beak. But was it really his fault that the old bird couldn't take a little bit of classic Bakura mayhem? He didn't seem to think so, but it was still a good ten minutes until he managed to follow the mind-link to where his hikari had already began chatting in earnest with this 'family' of his.

He plopped down readily, scraping a generous helping of bacon onto his plate and an additional meager portion of eggs from the silver tureen as an afterthought. His hikari had only a single piece of the meat and what looked like a plain piece of toast. Bakura snorted into his plate. His hikari was too considerate of 'etiquette'. If Bakura wanted to eat all meat for breakfast, he was going to and not feel a shred of remorse. Ryou, however, would worry about silly things like that, not that he wanted to eat all meat. His hikari ate 'balanced' meals. 'Silly yadonushi,' Bakura thought.

As he ate, he rested metaphorical elbows on the edges of Ryou's mind, feeding off the reactions and gauging their body language. It didn't matter what they said, words can lie, but the subtle actions you do on an unconscious level where harder to fake. And Bakura could read people. Quite well, in fact. Better than hikari, anyway.

He picked up a few words here and there, but it was predominantly gibberish. From what he could gather though, Lucius's tale seemed to be upsetting to his wife, who sniffed and said a few words every now and again. But the moist eyes seemed to be half forced, as if to empathize rather than express some earnest emotion like Ryou. His hikari showed too much emotion sometimes.

He shoved one last piece of meat hungrily into his mouth and stood, slipping away as silent as a cat, though feline he was not. He would strangle anyone who told him otherwise, yelling 'not a kitty' all the while as their breath seized in their throats. Although, back in Egypt, he wouldn't have minded such a thing. Felines were revered like gods and treated like kings in his time, after all. Foolish mortals.

A leer directed at him from Ryou made an amused chuckle bubble out of his lips almost involuntarily. Such an innocent face could not glare and look intimidating. He leered back and smirked at yadonushi's flinch backward, sniff, and blatant upturned nose that ignored his presence.

He left and went back to the room, finding it easier to navigate.

He flopped down on the bed again. His eyes lolled leisurely around the room, noticing the stack of cards lying on the bedside table in a passing glance. His hikari was going to be showing that little kid how to play, eh? Maybe it was time for Bakura to have a little fun... Bakura knew all of Ryou's cards, all of his tricks, and Bakura was fairly certain Ryou knew a fair number of his as well. So it begged the question: how would his hikari fare with a deck whose structure was foreign to him?

For Bakura, it's often the little things that amuse him most.

He pulled his own deck from his pocket and picked up Ryou's from where it lay. He took only a moment to laugh at his yadonushi's misfortune before shuffling the two together and cutting them evenly in half. One half was replaced on its spot on the table, while the other was tucked neatly back into his pants. He crossed his legs, closed his eyes, and prepared to wait for the hikari's eventual return.

* * *

**Don't get too comfortable with the Malfoys...*evil smirk* And YES, I'll be throwing a duel together for the next chapter. There aren't going to be too many card games, but I wanted to involve at least one ^-^ It's not YGO without children's card games after all. **

**Also, I have several update dates listed on my profile, so if you're curious as to when I'll try to have the next one out, just look there. I'm going to try and update every two weeks *crosses fingers and hopes for the best* My profile will always be the best place for info on this story, though *hint hint***

**Review, pretty please! I tried to put a dollar amount on each review, and found I couldn't! They are simply too valuable! So click that sexy, sexy little button, yes, the one right there under this A/N. You know you want to :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm not a duelist, I'll admit. I used to, but I haven't in a long time. For simplicity, I'm somewhat using abridged rules that include the ability to summon a bunch of cards in one turn. Hurr... Whatever. Duels actually aren't going to be integral to the plot by any means, so I don't really know why I bothered to include it at all. Filler, I guess. Or fanservice. Blah, I'll shut up now. **

Japanese

English

/Yami to Hikari/

_/Hikari to Yami/_

* * *

Ryou walked upstairs, his shoulders weighing heavily with the new information but his heart light. Perhaps it was letting someone know of good news, or maybe it was the hope that his occasionally unpleasant cousin might enjoy learning about Ryou's favorite non-RPG game. Either way, he whistled cheerily as he ascended the stairs, just another example of him trying to tune out the bad and put on a show, if only for himself.

He felt remarkably conflicted. They had explained their side, and clarity filled Ryou's memories like it never had before. The self-imposed blocks that had filled his mind from the gaps of his early childhood, they were gone. Somehow everything finally made sense, and yet still nothing did.

What he had thought was a normal upbringing was an escape into a world of 'muggles', people who weren't wizards. Ryou thought he had fallen into a dream. Of course he knew a little, he knew that his father was one, and that was part of why he was gone all the time. But then, Ryou hadn't ever used magic himself. By the time he realized he could use magic himself, it had lost all its appeal, thanks in part to Bakura and in part to his mother. And yet, it was still all so coincidental it made his head hurt.

By all accounts, the Malfoys should have kicked him out and he could have gone on his merry little way back to Japan, but they hadn't. He could see it in their eyes, though, that there was that thought lingering just out of normal perception. Did they wish to bury the hatchet? Would Ryou get to meet the other relatives he had never met before? That was certainly an exciting prospect. But guilt still swirled in the pit of his stomach. Why had his parents left, if this place was so wonderful?

He turned into the hallway with thoughtful, plodding steps and was surprised to find Draco arriving at his door just as he began to near it himself. He smiled to himself as Draco walked in, following him a few paces behind. Oh well, it would be all right, he hoped.

* * *

Bakura was sitting calmly on the bed when the first fair-haired boy walked in. Not his hikari. He ignored the child. Hikari came into the room a few seconds later, though, and he stirred only when his host arrived.

The boy, Ryou mentioned something about calling him Draco, was looking at him curiously, but he ignored it. He only watched silently as Ryou grabbed the stack of cards off the table and took a seat on the floor, gesturing for Draco to do the same.

Bakura let a tiny, contemptuous smile touch his lips as his hikari explained the rules, completely oblivious.

"You and your opponent play by taking turns. Each of you start out with 8,000 Life Points. You draw five cards from your deck, which you place over here-" Ryou began, the rules slipping easily from his lips as he explained the various rules and playing of the game.

He pointed out where cards would go and how the turns worked, or so Bakura assumed. He didn't understand whatever alien tongue Ryou was speaking in. Draco only stared blankly, an overload of information clearly filling his head and confusing him.

"Hikari, it looks as if your little cousin doesn't understand." Bakura mentioned snidely.

"I'm doing the best I can, what do you want me to do?" Ryou shot back, pouting subtly.

Bakura pretended to think about it for a moment, before grinning his usual shit-eating grin. "What if we demonstrated?" he asked in an offhanded tone, as if pulling the idea out of nowhere.

Ryou didn't seem to notice the suspicious behavior. He only nodded, as though it were a fairly good plan. "All right," he said.

"What did he say?" Draco asked.

"He said it would be better for us to show you what I mean. Would you like to watch us? Dueling with Bakura is always something to see."

Draco nodded slowly, confused. "You mentioned that... but just what does he do?"

"He likes to... make things interesting. People who lose to him often lose things... like their souls," Ryou replied, eyes rolling to the ceiling as though he didn't particularly condone Bakura's behavior.

His cousin perked up at that. "So you were serious about that? People really lose their souls in this game?" he asked, suddenly sounding much more excited. "Like, muggles just lose their life?"

"Well, not exactly, but yes, he does enjoy doing that."

"This game is much better than I thought!" Draco drawled with a wry smirk. "I'd love to see that."

Ryou blinked momentarily, but shuffled the cards nonetheless. "Bakura, if you're going to duel me, you might want to sit across from me," he suggested, sounding slightly frightened at the thought. Bakura only grinned at him, though, sliding onto the floor and laying down his deck near Ryou.

He picked his hikari's deck up and cut it, watching contentedly as Ryou explained what they were doing.

"There's a common saying, that you should trust your opponent but only after you've cut their deck," Ryou pointed out, replacing the deck near Bakura and taking his own back. "Now we draw..." he mumbled, pulling up five cards into his hand. His eyes grew wide. Bakura laughed psychotically.

Ryou's deck didn't have the Ouija board set in his deck, so why did he have the first card? It was Bakura's card. His eyes darted from his hand to Bakura's face and back. "Bakura? Did you switch the decks?" he asked, outraged.

"Merely shuffled them together, hikari. Even I don't know which deck has which cards," he replied with a sadistic smirk. Ryou's mouth gaped faintly at him, causing Bakura to laugh. Hikari sure figured it out quickly! "May the game begin."

The duel commenced with little further adieu, Ryou providing a running narration to Draco as an explanation though he was still slightly distraught at this unfortunate turn of events.

Ryou went first, drawing another card from the deck and examining his hand. Now he had the Destiny Board card, a spell card, two traps, and two monsters- Lady of Faith and Electric Lizard. Both were weak, too weak, but he placed them face down in defense mode anyway. He'd need the defense until he could find out just what cards he had gotten.

Bakura drew another card as well and smirked, summoning a Deathcaliber Knight in attack mode. He sent it to attack the left card, and Ryou cracked a small smile. It had been the Electric Lizard. Deathcaliber Knight wouldn't be able to attack next turn due to his lizard's special effect.

Bakura scowled and ended his turn, and Ryou drew again. His face lit up. He had drawn another Ouija letter, the A. The duel progressed. Bakura lost his Deathcaliber Knight to Ryou's Giant Axe Mummy, as well as a Disgraced Mage, forcing him to dump his hand so as to not lose any Life Points. Ryou lost his Lady of Faith.

Cards fell to the graveyard like leaves from a tree, and the mystery of the unknown cards in the deck kept them from forming any real strategy. It was a difficult duel for both parties, but Ryou seemed to be doing fairly well for himself. Bakura usually lived off of tricky strategies, and he had lost that.

As Ryou continued to whittle away at Bakura's LP, Bakura was searching. He needed a hail mary. No one had ever come this close to defeating him before, the sole exception being that blasted pharaoh, and he needed to find a way to turn this game around. Bakura was down to a paltry 1500, and it wasn't a part of any plan. Then he found it. He drew the two cards he needed most to lead to Ryou's demise. It wouldn't reflect well on him, after all, to be trounced by his weak little host.

"Hikari, what say you to making things interesting?" Bakura asked.

"I'd say you're full of it, I'm not going to give up my soul no matter how much you want my body. Why?" Ryou responded innocently, unconsciously tilting his head to one side.

"I just thought you'd want to show your little friend a real shadow game, that's all," Bakura answered, mimicking Ryou's innocuous tone with a faux one of his own.

Ryou frowned at him. "And what exactly did you have in mind for a punishment?"

"Just a favor is all. You win and I'll owe you a little favor, I win, you'll owe me a favor. Maybe you would like a day free from me, or for me to retrieve something for you by taking advantage of my special... skills, or anything really. It's all very simple, yadonushi. What do you say?" Bakura offered.

Ryou thought about it a moment.

"What are you two talking about?" Draco asked.

"Bakura... wants to use magic," Ryou answered truthfully.

"And why isn't he? I thought you said he always used it," Draco scoffed.

Ryou bit his lip. "There's always a price to pay, and I'm not sure I want to pay it."

"What is it? Your soul?"

"An IOU," Ryou answered simply.

"That's it? Come on Ryou, and here I thought that you wanted to go to Hogwarts. Muggle games are no fun, not without magic," Draco bated, mentioning the school Ryou was officially highly fascinated with by this point.

"But Bakura-" Ryou began, but he trailed off after seeing the look on Draco's face. It was a bit antagonistic, a bit pleading, and a bit superior. This kid had to be related to Bakura somehow, Ryou figured. "Oh, alright," he said, giving in to his cousin's authoritative demands.

It really wasn't so bad a deal, he figured. And he was winning- he had just drawn the final Destiny Board card, the letter D, and the countdown to Bakura's demise had finally begun. Suddenly, Bakura keeping his cards together in a special organization wasn't such a good thing- when shuffled, they didn't stray far from each other.

"So is that a yes or a no, hikari?" Bakura asked with a wide grin.

"It's a yes," Ryou muttered.

"Excellent," Bakura said, and a rippling wave of shadows fell over the three of them.

The shadow realm. Draco gazed around in wonder as he looked at the empty vacuum-like space they were transported to. Violet shadows painted a dappled backdrop across the expanse, the same hazy amethyst tone that made up the dueling arena that had grown from the nothingness in the space between the two duelists. His eyes grew even wider. The layout of the cards had been displayed on the ground between the two raised pedestals, real monsters in the place of the pictures.

Then Bakura made his move. In attack mode he summoned both Diabound Colonel and Dark Necrofear. Ryou still had several monsters on the field, an Earl of Demise, a Headless Knight, and his Giant Axe Mummy, but Bakura now had a decidedly cheshire-like smirk on his face. It was matched only by Ryou's surprisingly evil grin, a look Bakura was unable to believe. It was nearly as evil as one of his own.

"You seem excited, hikari. Do you still believe you can win?" Bakura asked, drawling lightly through his fang-toothed smile.

Ryou shrugged happily, and beamed at Bakura. The evil look on his face was gone, replaced by the bright, carefree one his light occasionally wore, the look that appeared only when he was genuinely happy. That didn't occur often, but when it did it was incomparable in its glowing radiance. Bakura watched him suspiciously.

"What's going on up there?" Draco called.

"Bakura thinks he's going to win, but I might have just the cards to finally beat him!" Ryou said happily, yelling down to his cousin.

"Does he always win?"

"He's only lost a few times, and that's only ever to the King of Games! And now Bakura doesn't stand a chance!"

Draco stared at him suspiciously as well. "Okay." He didn't understand most of what Ryou just said.

Bakura, unfazed by whatever conversation the two seemed to be carrying on, sent Diabound to attack the Mummy, and Dark Necrofear to destroy the Headless Knight. Thanks to Diabound's special effect, the Mummy added an additional 850 points to Diabound's attack. Ryou's life points took a sharp dip. Ryou nearly wiggled with excitement as Bakura ended his turn.

"My turn!" Ryou said, drawing a card. He added it to his hand and laid down another letter, E, though he knew he wouldn't really need it. Better safe than sorry, after all. Now it was time to initiate his plan. "I play Change of Heart, taking control of Diabound!" Ryou began, laying down the first card. Diabound drifted across the field to stand beside the Headless Knight. "And now I will attack Dark Necrofear!"

The grey-skinned beast lurched forward, striking down Dark Necrofear. Thanks to the destruction of Giant Axe Mummy, Diabound now had 2650 attack points, 450 more than Dark Necrofear. The blue-skinned figure fell, dropping the shattered doll figurine as she tumbled to the ground, vaporizing on contact. Now Diabound had 4850 attack points.

"And that's not all, Bakura! Now I play Spirit Illusion, to make an exact copy of Diabound! Now, Diabound token, attack Bakura's life points directly!" Ryou squealed jovially.

The token beast slid across the ground and struck Bakura squarely in the chest with the snake-head tail, knocking the larger boy backward as his life points fell from 1050 to 0.

Bakura's jaw quite literally dropped. Hikari hadn't even needed the Destiny Board to force a win, he had done it by outsmarting him! Him! Bakura, King of Thieves and soon to be King of the World! Ryou stood dancing in place as the dueling platform lowered to level ground. Bakura stood aghast.

Monsters faded away, and the shadows dissipated from sight. They stood again in the bedroom, the distance between them reduced to mere feet. Bakura glared at the wall in shock. Ryou continued his victory dance. He felt amazing. This was what winning a shadow duel felt like? He didn't expect it to feel any different from a normal duel, and he wasn't one to gloat, but something about this made his twisted victory so much more satisfying.

It was something in the way it made him feel powerful and in control, he guessed. Bakura had taken all that away from him and it felt good to have some semblance of that back. It made him feel alive in a way he couldn't even begin to remember feeling before. He wondered how he would use his free favor...

"So you wear make-up, and use magic to play muggle card games. Anything else I should know about you two, other than he doesn't speak English?" Draco asked, interrupting Ryou's childish dance.

Ryou adopted a very serious face, one of grave, deadly seriousness as his limbs ceased their movements. "Yes, Bakura is evil," he said melodramatically, before cracking a small smile. Draco seemed to find this exceedingly funny for some reason, and Ryou pouted at him, put out. "He is! He wants to take over the world!" he explained.

"I don't think he's going to get too far," Draco started, before pausing, hearing a knock at the door.

"What is going on in there?" an irate voice called. "Draco? Ryou? Are you boys in there?"

"We are, father!" the blond son called back, pulling the door open to reveal his dad standing there and looking distinctly pale, as if something had frightened him and he were trying to hide it. "Is it already time for the meeting?" he asked eagerly. He ran a hand through his already neatly slicked back hair and smirked, puffing his chest out like the peacock had when the two Bakuras had first seen it. It looked like he was trying to look important. Bakura swallowed back laughter.

"The Dark Lord... wishes to talk to Ryou," he said, a note of regret in his voice.

"Can I come along, father?" Draco asked.

"No, just Ryou. Grab my arm tightly, we must hurry," he said. Draco glared at Ryou, turning to shoot the glare at Bakura as well but finding that he was gone. Draco blinked. The taller boy had simply vanished the moment Draco had looked away to return to the soul room. He was curious, of course. Just who was this 'Dark Lord', and why did this seem to be the perfect title for the darkness Bakura felt in this house?

Bakura grinned through Ryou's lips and grabbed the proffered arm. Squinching his eyes shut a moment too late, he saw the scenery change abruptly, and a sudden noise echoed with a loud pop against his eardrums. The mortal man was talking, Bakura could hear him blather on unintelligibly, and he frowned at him.

/Hikari, you're needed after all/ Bakura called. /Talk to the human for me/

Ryou wrestled his way back into control, glaring into empty space and wishing he could glare at Bakura instead for taking him over so forcibly and then just leaving. "Sorry, could you repeat that? I missed the first part," he said innocently, trying to ignore the already weakening throes of nausea that wanted to make him spill his lunch... well, breakfast.

Lucius seemed dismayed to have to repeat himself, but began again. "As I was saying, you are meeting the Dark Lord. You will state your name for him, and you are to do everything he says. Keep that in mind and you may find it well worth your while," he said severely.

Ryou's head bobbed slowly in agreement. "Alright," he said in a small voice as he was led into the adjacent room. He suddenly felt just a little bit afraid.

Inside the room was a scent like death, cloyingly sweet but somehow rotten, like brimstone. A long table was set up, similar to the dining table he had eaten at just this morning. There were really only two noticeable exceptions- there was no food, and this table was actually full, unlike the nearly empty one back in the house.

One must say it as such, back in the house, because the two had frankly no clue where they were. Much like when Bakura had taken them through the shadow realm to help them bypass the wards on the gates, they had simply disappeared and reappeared again in another spot. The didn't have the slightest clue.

One thing that was similar, though was the tense, uncomfortable atmosphere Ryou had noticed immediately at both tables. The patrons, those seated at the long table, were garbed in all black cloaks, many of their faces obscured by the murky shadows that were so pervasive here. All except for the pasty figure at the head of the table were sitting silently, almost disturbingly so, in rapt, yet mute attention. There was fear in their eyes, in the hard set of many of their mouths.

The mysterious man who spoke, the one who did so in a raspy tone, frightened them and yet also put them in awe. A raven-haired woman with wildly curly hair seemed to be hanging gleefully on every word that passed his lips, every harsh whisper that carried so lightly across the room. A rat-faced man seemed to cling to him in adoration and fear.

He had a face so grotesque Ryou was sure it would haunt his waking nightmares, but the darkness coming off of him in waves was unmistakably despicable, much like Bakura, but somehow different. He bit his lip nervously.

"This is the boy? And where is the other?" the man asked in a rattling hiss. Bone-like fingers tapped lightly on a knobbly stick held aloft near his face. A wand, Ryou supposed, although the gnarled stick seemed vaguely menacing by its own right, rather than the floridly gaudy sticks the Malfoy's possessed.

"He was gone when I-" Lucius began, but a bold of shockingly bright green light hit him square in the chest, cutting him off with an alien cry of 'crucio'. Ryou watched in horror as the man convulsed on the floor, screaming in agony, writhing as though in pain. Bakura only laughed cruelly, an echo in the back of Ryou's mind that mirrored the one outside of his head.

/This is getting fairly interesting/ Bakura mentioned to his light. /Now pay attention, I can only see what you do when I'm in here, hikari/ the yami chastised lightly.

Ryou snapped to, blinking rapidly as his uncle stood back up, a dark groan passing his thin lips. Ryou sighed in relief. His uncle was fine, hurt but fine, and was now sending him a meaningful glare. He shivered. Oh, yes, he was supposed to introduce himself to this monster.

"My name is Bak-" he began in a squeaky tone, bending at the waist easily before a sharp pain ripped across his scalp, dragging him back up before he could bow much at all.

"Don't bow to him, hikari. I want to see what he does," Bakura said darkly, eyes glittering malevolently in the halflight like rubies pained with the rusty burgundy of dried blood. The invisible fist holding Ryou's white hair lessened its grip.

"Ryou Bakura," he finished, suddenly glad he had remembered to reverse his name. The strange 'man', if he could even be called that, watched him curiously.

"Look him dead in the eyes, hikari," Bakura whispered, leaning in close enough for the lips to brush lightly against the shell of his ear, though there was no need to do so. Bakura was still in his spirit form, after all, no one could see him, nor hear him for that matter. Still, Ryou rose his wavering green eyes to the slit pupils of the frightening seated figure, more wary of Bakura than of this person. He didn't look away, even when the expression became truly petrifying. "Good hikari," Bakura purred. "Now don't look so frightened. Let's see what he does."

Ryou nodded lightly. Slit-pupil eyes flashed.

"Is someone talking to you?" the figure asked suddenly.

"N-no!" Ryou stuttered, shocked.

"Fix this, yadonushi!" Bakura said in a warning tone.

/_I'm trying!_/ Ryou shot back, terrified.

"Come here," the pale figure ordered, curling a finger at Ryou. "Step closer to Lord Voldemort."

He took small, hesitant steps forward, remembering the words of advice his uncle had given him before coming in. They weren't fast enough for Bakura, though, and seemed suspicious to the practiced thief of the 'show no fear' mentality. Bakura prodded him on his back, and Ryou hurried, barely stifling the giggle from being so unbearable ticklish.

It was only once he was standing right in front of this dark lord that he realized he might actually be more frightened of Voldemort than he was of Bakura. He had known Bakura to show him mercy on rare occasions, but this man seemed utterly merciless. The cold glint in his red eyes was every bit as cruel as that of Bakura's own bloody irises, even counting the look the yami had staring down the spirit of the puzzle or some new victim. He shivered under the cold stare. He had a feeling that there was more to this than the simple stare down this looked like.

And he was right. Inside of his head, the extremely accomplished legilimens was at work, attempting to pick apart Ryou's head. The only thing keeping his brain safe from the full onslaught of Voldemort's power was, surprisingly enough, Bakura. There was no way that the great Touzoku-ou Yami no Bakura would allow someone as pathetic as this so-called 'dark lord' invade the last sanctuary he had, the host he had dwelt in for many long years. Bakura wasn't known for sharing well.

Amused but only so far as to allow certain memories show, he threw up walls against the dark wizard in some of Ryou's memories, only allowing certain ones through so as not to arouse suspicions. These he monitored carefully.

Haziest came memories from an early childhood in the midst of chaos. There was a mother native to England and a sister of Narcissa, and a father who had spent much of his childhood in Japan, where Ryou's paternal grandparents had lived, and was a known blood traitor. The little baby Ryou already had a small grasp of magic, the parents knew it from the first few moments of his life. It was a dark time, and this dark figure seemed to be the root of it all. They wanted to find a way out. And then, Ryou's little sister Amane was born.

That was the definitive last straw, especially since she turned out to be a squib. She would have to face that stigma all her life, they wanted to get her free from the overtly-snooty pure-blood wizards, and they wanted Ryou safe from the dark magic, too. They didn't want him becoming corrupted like the other pure-blood family children were sure to become under the influence of this man.

With some man named Dumbledore's assistance, they were able to leave the wizarding world, casting a spell over Ryou to keep him from accessing his magic. He would be a normal child, no magic. Couldn't have little Ryou doing anything to his bullies and tormentors, after all. Too suspicious. Ryou's mother willingly snapped her wand, and Ryou's father kept his in Egypt, out of reach of the children.

The memories grew rapidly more recent, a normal childhood, the dad gone more often than a good father should have while Ryou was kept in the dark about anything magical. But then, that had been Ryou's dad's one stipulation to uphold. If he wanted to keep half an ear on the wizarding world without becoming too involved, he had become a curse-breaker for Gringotts. Neither Ryou nor Bakura knew what a Gringotts was, but it seemed unimportant, even to the legilimens and his nosy perusing.

Still the memories flew by, continuing on their omniscient promenade through the oblivious Ryou's head. These were Ryou's memories through and through, things that he could remember with no assistance whatsoever. A childhood with sister Amane and mother Serena as his only friends, until age ten when things took a bloody turn. There was a sound of screeching brakes and squealing tires. Bakura could see metal wrought into twisted, horrendous shapes as menacing as the teeth of some vile monster. Fangs of steel were painted crimson and white by the lifeless bodies of Ryou's fair-haired mother and sister.

The promenade turned to a procession, and a dirge played in the background, echoing eerily as the memory of two white caskets wove their way to a cemetery in his head. A flood of tears and raw emotion filled these memories with certain, plaintive pain. Aren may have returned for nearly 3 years because of that, but Ryou so closely resembled his now cadaverous family members that he reclaimed his job back in Egypt, an escape from the one person who reminded the other of the loss most of all.

But for the boy growing up alone, covering for his dad when necessary, the gifts he was sent on a regular basis didn't seem to placate him as his father had intended. Lonely little Ryou, the boy with not a companion in the world.

Until the ring.

Bakura, enraptured as he was by the show, for he had yet to see the story in its entirety after the explanation this morning, let that tiny moment slip through. He was left to scramble, throwing blocks up around memories with any mention of him. If a being powerful enough to invade his host's mind had less than savory intentions for the world, then it could turn out to be advantageous for Bakura to remain a secret for the time being.

A fraction too late, perhaps, came his blocks, because the next memories reverberated with sorrow and anger, and especially the bitter taste of self-loathing. Words bounced around inside of Ryou's head, the words Bakura could recall using every time he took another soul to be Ryou's friend. They even echoed with the same cynical tone Bakura was famous for. He could tell that this snake-man-thing found a strange interest in the way people were dropping like flies everywhere Ryou went, all because of that enigmatic, glimmering golden ring he wore around his neck.

Something in the way he'd play a game with them, just a simple game, black out, and the next day find them trapped in the depths of a coma they couldn't awaken from seemed to intrigue him. It was also the gaps, those spanning black spots of emptiness, that seemed to interest him most. Through the next several years Ryou traveled everywhere, eventually settling in the Japan he now called home, and yet the 'little problem' continued to follow him, running seemingly rampant. A reputation began to precede him, both as a major gamer and as someone to be labeled as 'dangerous'.

That still didn't stop the bullies. Until something stopped them- forcibly. That was another black spot, and nobody could prove he was connected (the bullies could speak only of red eyes when they finally awoke from their semi-conscious states) but that was even more curious.

And then he had met Yuugi. The biggest gap was here, only occasional flashes of card games and control for the next few months, a trip to an island, isolation in a hospital, and then a flight high on a blimp (most of which he spent likewise isolated on a medic bed. And then, the gaps seemed to definitively end. Yuugi and company were forgiving, why though was surprisingly inaccessible to Voldemort.

Outside of Ryou's head, red eyes were narrowed with focus, and a vein throbbed beneath the wafer-thin pale skin. /_Bakura? What exactly is going on?_/ Ryou asked tentatively.

/Quiet hikari! I need to focus/ Bakura only hissed. His focus slipped faintly and allowed something in, a tiny leak of dark intentions. Destroy Yuugi with the shadows. Voldemort leapt on this first detectable dark thought eagerly, but Bakura quickly shut him down, effectively drawing this mental tug-of-war to a a close as an irritated Bakura gave the Dark Lord the boot.

"There's something or someone blocking this boy's thoughts!" Voldemort declared angrily. "Tell me how!"

Ryou took several tottering steps backward, stuttering out, "I- I- I have no idea what you're talking about-"

"Liar! Crucio!" Voldemort cried out, flicking a wand at Ryou. Pain worse than anything imaginable ripped through him, a sort of pain that found a way to embody every hurt Ryou had ever felt. He refused to cry out. He wouldn't, not even when his eyes threatened to roll back in his head and he was ready to pass out in agony. And then, after only a split second, though it felt more akin to hours, it stopped. Bakura had stopped it. A small, haggard gasp still slipped through his lips.

Ryou snapped his eyes to where Bakura had interrupted the flow of magic in wonder. Adept fingers twisted the very essence of darkness, bending it and shaping it to his will, and his will was to deflect anyone who dared attempt to injure his host body. A furious snarl was set solidly into his face, and glowing crimson eyes every bit as dark as Voldemort's seemed to glare venomously at said dark wizard.

"I will kill any who dare lay a finger on my host!" he spat while the cloaked wizards watched him, confusion as plain on their faces as the snake perched lightly on Voldemort's shoulder.

"What language is that, m'lord?" the sniveling, rat-faced man simpered.

"It's, ah, Japanese," Ryou muttered softly, standing up behind Bakura and trying to ignore the faintly lingering pain that still burned in his muscles. The darker half shifted his weight to stay between Ryou and danger. His teeth were bared like an animal's. Ryou only bowed apologetically. "Go- I mean, sorry," he said.

"Hikari, why in Ra's name are you bowing? I thought I told you not to!"

"Well, I'm sure you did something rude to piss them off so much, so it was the least I could do," Ryou shot back.

"The least you could do is nothing, and you seemed to have failed at that," Bakura pointed out scathingly. Ryou flushed, partially angry and partially ashamed.

"Do y-you understand anything they're s-s-s-saying?" The ratty man stuttered. Voldemort only sneered and flicked his wand at Bakura, who paid the green sparks no mind as he continued to rant at Ryou, even when they struck him squarely in the chest.

"-So why don't you just go back to your soul room like a good little landlord and leave this to me?" Bakura snapped. Ryou took an automatic two steps back. The words had been spoken in English.

"What sort of muggle code is this?" Voldemort mused, but Bakura only turned angrily on him.

"Its the kind of code that means shut the hell up and mind your own bloody business!" Bakura barked automatically. Even he paused then. What had before been hazy thoughts over a mind-link were now an actual comprehension of what was being said. And for that matter, they could understand him, too. He rather liked their shocked expressions, and he couldn't control the broad grin that stretched across his face. A prickling against his mind told him that Voldemort was again trying to get in, but instead, Bakura chose to blast him with his own thought wave by tapping into the 'freaky-ass magic' he hated.

Enough with these silly games. There was nothing to be gained by fooling anyone, only power to put these fools in their place. Drawing on more shadow magic, he plunged a mental barb back at the poking one. Where Voldemort's had been designed to slip in unnoticed, Bakura's was ready to gleefully wreck as much havoc as possible.

To Bakura's immense satisfaction, the snake-faced man recoiled as if he had been slapped. In a way, he had. Bakura's mental bitch-slap had done its job well. So well, in fact, he had been able to see hints of Voldemort's own mind in the process. He had to laugh at how twisted the thoughts were- they were almost as bad as Mariku's.

"You think that you know the meaning of darkness? You seek true immortality?" Bakura spat gleefully, growling out the words he had gleaned from that minuscule insight. "Just give up now, you foolish mortal, and don't dabble where you know not what you're getting into!" Bakura cackled cruelly at him.

"Insolent babe, who do you think you're talking to? I am the one true Dark Lord, while you're nothing more than a contemptuous child!" Voldemort crowed, his voice dry like a hoarse whisper.

"Child my ass," Bakura scoffed. "I'm older than you can possibly imagine!" His tone was boastful, but there wasn't a hint of a lie in it.

Ryou shivered. Bakura typically reserved that tone for people he had the utmost contempt of. The mailman, a checkout clerk at the supermarket, the next-door neighbor, and Yami were the usual recipients, for it contained a perfect balance of intimidation and mockery at the same time. But Bakura felt it was fully necessary to use it, it was time to show just how much repugnance he had for this whole silly facade of evil.

"I know secrets you and your shredded little soul can only imagine. Now unless you can find me the key to the tomb of the nameless pharaoh, I have no use for you. I think Hikari and I will be taking our leave," he announced, still using his superior tone. He let the carrot dangle.

The key was a closely guarded secret even the Ishtars wouldn't share with Bakura, making it a secret he was thoroughly curious about. If this man was as powerful as his thoughts insinuated, then Bakura was sure that if he sounded as though he knew something, they would lead him right to it.

"Wait," Voldemort hissed. Bakura fought back his grin. Hook, line, and sinker. For some reason, people had the strangest tendency to think so much less of children at first. Bakura supposed it was up to him to set the record straight. "I believe I know exactly what you are talking about. Help me, and it's yours."

Bakura only shrugged. "And how do I know you aren't just lying? Where is the key?" he deadpanned.

They stared each other down for a moment. Ryou didn't like the looks the two exchanged, it was like some nefarious pissing contest that could result in total anarchy depending on who won. Bakura didn't back down, but then, neither did Lord Voldemort. Ryou wasn't sure who he'd rather win.

After several poignant moments, Voldemort spoke again. "You might just be the secret weapon I've been searching for." The barest hints of a cold smile tugged at the monster's thin lips. "I believe we can find a way to cooperate, seeing as how we seem to share a mutual goal. We are currently making plans to invade a location known as the Department of Mysteries, and in all likelihood the treasure you seek hides behind the doors," he informed Bakura calmly in his rough rasp. "And now I believe we have some plans we shall solidify. You see, I have but one obstacle standing in the way of my plans, and I'm sure you can help me with that little issue..."

"Sorry, hate to disappoint, but I don't think so," Bakura interrupted with a brash grin. "You see, all I really needed was a place, and now that I know that, well, I really have no need for you. Other than hikari, I work alone. Which reminds me! We really must be going now. Come along, Yadonushi," he ordered.

"NO!" Voldemort cried angrily. "Stop them!"

Bolts of brilliantly colored light erupted from several of the sticks at the command, but Bakura quickly threw up a wall of shadows, enshrouding them in the darkness. Ryou could just see several figures vanishing with loud 'pops' while others continued to flick the 'wands' at them. He blinked in shock as Bakura bared his teeth at them in a ferocious grin, hands up to keep power flowing. Those same hands reached out to grab him, quickly pulling him into the depths of Bakura's embrace and dragging him to the shadow realm, where he could no longer see the hideous face of the Lord Voldemort and his followers.

They arrived nearly instantaneously back at their room in Malfoy Manor. Ryou stumbled out of Bakura's arms and glared furiously at him. "Way to go, Bakura! Now they're going to be pissed at us!" he spat angrily.

Bakura smirked at Ryou and shrugged. "And your point is?" he asked. "I'd have thought you of all people would know I'm both fairly familiar and comfortable with making enemies, hikari. This is nothing new to me. Well, this brusque language is, but you have nothing to fear." Bakura was still utterly calm, the kind of scary-calm only Bakura could truly pull off.

Ryou glowered nonetheless, even though it came off as more of a non-threatening pout, and threw what few things he had bothered to unpack back into his suitcase. Bakura watched with his amused smirk painting his features as the frustrated Ryou stormed around the room, obviously in search of something specific.

Bakura held out his hand. "Looking for this?" he asked.

"Did you have my deck all along?" Ryou huffed irritably, leering at Bakura who only chuckled faintly in response.

"I did. Have you already forgotten that the decks were swapped? I fixed them, by the way."

"That was... considerate of you," Ryou stated in faint surprise.

Bakura sneered. "Don't think I'm going soft. Did you expect to keep my cards?" His tone was light and mocking. Ryou shook his head. "Yeah, didn't think so. Now let's get out of here. Whatever magic these people have, they are currently attempting to use it to break in, and I doubt it will take them too much longer to figure out they can just walk through the door. We really do need to be going. Grab your suitcase; I'll bring us outside."

Ryou offered him a small, sweet smile at that, causing Bakura to scowl at him. Stupid hikari, thinking he was a good person. He just didn't want Ryou to die immediately- he still had a use for his host after all. Bakura didn't have time to be trapped in that ring until someone he deemed suitable came along again. That could take too long, and would postpone his plans almost indefinitely. These next few years would be the beginning of the end for everyone, and for a spirit thousands of years old, that time was nothing. He wasn't planning on taking any chances. And Ryou knew that.

Unceremoniously, he grabbed Ryou, vanishing swiftly again into the shadows and letting him out on a deserted stretch of road about halfway between the B&B and Malfoy Manor. Bakura was gone, already returned to his soul room, leaving Ryou alone in disbelief on the side of the road. /Now you had better get walking. Your passport is still at that little place, and I know you wouldn't dare neglect to pay them, little light/ Bakura remarked.

His twisted smile tried to tug at Ryou's lips, but he fought the spirit off. He didn't feel like smiling and he certainly didn't want to give Bakura the satisfaction of control. He began to trudge down the road, wheels of his suitcase rolling audibly behind him, when one of Bakura's omnipresent remarks stopped him in his tracks. /Wrong way, hikari.../

Ryou scowled at the wind.

* * *

**I hope you guys aren't too upset. I have to follow my plot notes, after all! Even when they make Voldemort terribly OOC... Also, ****Ryou's parents never got names, so I gave them some. Deal.**

**And not to sound like a beggar or anything, but if you guys like Kingdom Hearts, you should totally go to my profile and check out Angels of Death and Kingdom Killers since nobody seems to be reading that (which makes me incredibly upset, especially since it's probably one of the best things I've written so far). It really would mean a lot to me. Um... yeah.**

**So r****eview, my precious aureates! Leave me wonderful little messages of your love! Or... just say something. Please? Even one-word reviews get the job done ;D**


	4. Chapter 4

**So sorry this is 2 days late (it is technically 12:05AM). I hope the 3,000 more words than usual makes up for it a little. To put this in terms of the All American Rejects, both life and this chapter 'gave me hell'. I was busy, and this chapter was a bitch to write and I hate it more than words can describe. I hate the way it jumps around and makes no sense. It should settle into the original intended plot soon.**

**And by the way, there's technically no angstshipping in this chapter unless you really want it to be there. Malik just doesn't know the concept of personal space. Yeah, I decided to include a little Malik, but he won't be around much. He's just here to cause trouble and wreck havoc.**

* * *

It was late afternoon. He was hot, starving, and exhausted. He was in a terrible mood. And it seemed as though Bakura were enjoying every minute of his misery. But then, Bakura had always been grimly amused by other's misery; this was nothing unusual.

Ryou trudged wearily back up the winding drive, consoling himself with the thought that he'd be able to call a cab from the B&B and ride back to London in relative comfort.

It took a Herculean effort to climb the stairs (for the wooden porch was set up quite a bit from the ground in order to be on the same level as the front door) and for his huffing, puffing efforts, received a curious stare from the matronly woman in charge. He hardly cared as much as he usually might have. His arms were sore.

"Where've ya been all day, boy?" she asked him gruffly, a thick brogue coloring her tone.

He sighed. "Got held up at a... relative's house," he grumbled tiredly.

"Well, why dinnit ya just stay there?"

"Long story." He offered her a small smile.

She shrugged, unfazed. "Eh, not my business anyway. There's someone ta see yer upstairs. Dinnit leave a name, but it looked important. 'E's been up there a while now waitin', so I'd hurry if I was you, boy. Said 'e needed ter talk teh ya." Her thumb jerked in the direction of his room. "I brought 'im upstairs a while ago, but 'e said 'e wasn't expectin' you for a while anyway. Funny man..."

Ryou thanked her, silently resolving to pay her a little extra for her trouble. That is, if he got to pay her at all. Nothing had been going as expected lately after all. It didn't help that, combined with the fact that he now had to meet with some stranger rather than just leave, his luggage felt as though it weighed a hundred pounds. His arms would probably be a tad sore tomorrow... Not a pleasant thought, but not an unbearable one. It could have been worse. At least he hadn't been stabbed and left in a hospital to wonder what the hell had happened while he was blacked out again.

/I told you, hikari, Malik did it/ Bakura said silkily. /And if you recall, I was the one who saved your sorry ass, both on the blimp and in that meeting/

A shiver rolled down Ryou's spine at the memory._ /Can we agree to never speak of that again?/_

Bakura chuckled in the back of Ryou's head. /Of course, yadonushi. My wish is your command/ He sounded sarcastic, but Ryou would take it.

The room he had awoken in only hours before (although it felt more like an eternity ago) was exactly the same as he had left it, if a bit tidier. Except for the slanted sunlight streaming through the window, thick drapes drawn back and secured in place by a thick, velvety rope tie, and the wizened man seated lightly on the foot of his bed, he could have easily assumed everything had been nothing more than an elaborate dream borne from exhaustion.

But no, he was well awake. The light burning in his muscles and the weight of the ring, ice cold as always, ensured that this was no fantasy. As it was, he blinked vacantly at the unusual guest, completely taken aback by the stranger.

His hair and beard were long and gray, not white like Ryou's own hair, but a fair steely tone dusted with salt and pepper flecks of color. There was a bright, merry twinkle in the rheumy blue eyes hidden behind those half-moon spectacles. The guest doffed his tall, pointy hat upon Ryou's entry and stood to greet the boy warmly with a gentle yet firm handshake. Ryou stared on, dumbstruck.

"Good afternoon," the man began. His voice was soft, the sort of tone that came with great age and well-practiced patience of those aforementioned great many years. "You would be Ryou Bakura, I'd assume?"

"Uh, yes. That would be me," Ryou stuttered awkwardly. "May I ask who you are?"

The old man laughed. "Forgive an old man his bad manners in times like these. My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, but you may call me Professor Dumbledore. Now if I may be so bold as to ask, what would your friend be named?"

Ryou blinked at him blankly for several moments. This was the man who had shielded his powers when he was younger, Ryou was sure of it. He had that same timeless look he had possessed all those years ago. Then he realized that the man was still waiting for an answer. "What are you talking about?" he babbled innocently.

"Now now, Mr. Bakura, I may not be as young as I used to be, but I know you didn't return here alone," Dumbledore mused, sounding rather canny.

"But I am alone," Ryou stated. He could feel Bakura seething at the old man, and struggled to build up a much better facade than earlier's. "I'm sorry, uh... Professor, but I don't know what you're talking about."

Dumbledore's expression grew gravely serious, almost reproachful, before it slipped into an easy, effervescent smile like a switch being pulled. "Of course, I have been known to be mistaken on occasion." Ryou smiled at this, but Dumbledore hadn't yet finished talking. "Still, I don't think it would be safe to leave you to wander the countryside with Voldemort's followers searching for you."

Ryou's eyes widened. "You know about that?"

"My boy, I am very old, and very clever. Where would I be if I didn't know things like this?"

"I don't know, sir. But what am I supposed to do?"

Dumbledore's smile was kind. "It's quite all right, I have a simple solution. You shall accompany me to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, where you will stay in safety until such time comes that you will attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I daresay you've heard of it before?"

Ryou gave a small nod in awe. Hogwarts...? THE Hogwarts?

When he had turned 11, he and his father had wanted nothing to do with anything at all, let alone something magical, after the death of Ryou's beloved mother and sister. It hadn't taken much convincing at all on Aren's part to convince Ryou not to go to the school at that time, and the consideration of ever going late had never crossed his mind.

Then combine that with being trapped in the clutches of a mischievous, often cruel, spirit. With everyone around him vanishing into comas, the last thing he wanted to do was to go somewhere where they would actually know what was happening. Were that to happen, they would know it was all Ryou's fault, and he would get into trouble. He would lose the millennium ring, and Bakura would be angry with him- angry enough to hurt him. That was frightening enough to keep him moving further and further away from England.

But now Bakura was somewhat under control, Ryou supposed. It had been quite some time since he had last blacked out, and Bakura hadn't sent anyone's souls to the shadow realm in a while. Ryou liked to think that Yuugi's spirit Atemu was helping to keep the thief in line. Now, Ryou couldn't see what could possibly be bad about a school that teaches children how to control their powers. It was at the point where he was rather excited, it meant that he might finally be on par with the incredibly strong Bakura.

He and his spirit understood each other slightly better now, and the hope was that Bakura would know that it would make things more complicated to banish the souls of Ryou's friends to small figurines, causing more harm than help. During that dark, dark time, Ryou had been distraught (tractable, but distraught), and when left with control again, had tried to kill himself more than once in an attempt to stop Bakura (he hadn't always been so, dare he say, comfortable, around his spirit). The boy had even hid in a church, thinking that it would help him. Bakura showed him that it wouldn't, of course, and allowed Ryou to resume a semi-normal life after a while. Bakura needed a healthy host, after all.

Ryou screwed his eyes tightly shut, thinking hard. Of course it sounded fun, but he wasn't sure he was ready to leave his friends for almost an entire year. Malik would certainly miss him, and Yuugi... Yuugi might miss him. He had a hard time knowing though, because he was often forgotten in the face of Yuugi's other friends. Jou and Tristan especially, but sometimes Anzu or Duke or even Kaiba. And those hooded hooligans were still after him, or so Dumbledore said...

It didn't take much thought. Yes, he wanted to go. He would be safe, and he would even have the opportunity to make new friends! Then he'd have Malik and Mariku and whomever he met while there, instead of just the Egyptian pair and Bakura.

He brightened significantly. This would be good for him. His smile was broad and free.

"I take it you have," Dumbledore mentioned with a small chuckle, noticing the grin rapidly spreading across the boy's face. "I'll also have to remove that spell on you as well..." he mused, more to himself than anything else.

He held out an arm to Ryou, but the boy stared up at him with a slightly fearful look on his face. Bakura hadn't been nauseous after traveling with Ryou's uncle, but then, the spirit had been accustomed to all forms of pain and illness, having grown up in a time without modern medicine. Ryou had been miserable afterwards.

"Oh, don't care for side-along apparition?"

"Not really, sir," Ryou mumbled. He didn't have a taste for it after his uncle, Lucius, had taken him on that trip earlier today. Dumbledore smiled again.

/He's another of those wizard-ma-call-its you're related to, isn't he?/ Bakura grumbled.

/Just wizards, Bakura. And yes. My dad told me about him- he's the most powerful wizard there ever was, and the only one that Voldemort is afraid of. I didn't get it before, but now.../ Ryou let his thoughts taper off.

Bakura smirked. /Are you scared of that Voldy-whatsit?/ he asked tauntingly. /He's nothing, you know. I could take care of him any day/

/You said you would stop killing people!/

/I insinuated it to appease you. I never promised/ Bakura chuckled quietly to himself. /And anyway, there's no need to go with Dumbly-dorf. He already suspects my existence; there's no need to prove him right. We should go now/

/It's _Dumbledore_, and I don't-/

"Ryou, is everything alright?" Dumbledore asked, interrupting the railroad crossing of thought.

Ryou started and glanced guiltily up at the elderly-looking man. "Just fine. Sorry, sir, just lost in my thoughts," he apologized gently. Dumbledore held out his arm again and Ryou took it hastily, trying to ignore the squeamish feeling that curdled in his gut like sour milk at the mere thought of 'side-along appariting' again. "Would it be possible to stop by my house first? I'd really like to get more of my things."

"Of course. Simply concentrate on the location, and I'll guide us there," Dumbledore replied. Was it that simple? Ryou couldn't remember all of the ins and outs of magic, but he did recall his father mentioning once or twice in his early childhood how difficult it was. His eyes closed tightly, and he pictured the entry of the apartment he usually lived in alone.

One resounding 'POP' later, Ryou found himself standing in the exact same spot he had imagined, except it wasn't as empty as he had planned. Just inside of his bedroom, Ryou could hear the light hammering of fingers tapping on keys in rapid, easy succession, a soft hum wavering between the sounds in a gentle, carefree melody. There was somebody in his house, and that somebody was singing low under their breath.

"Malik?" Ryou called, and the keys stopped. There was a loud crash, and in moments a bounding blond boy had tackled Ryou to the floor and enclosed him in his arms in a tight embrace.

"Ryouuuuu! You're back! I didn't even hear you come in! Did Bakura bring you back? That was really nice of him!" Malik babbled, still straddling Ryou with a delighted grin on his bronze face.

"Uhm, Malik?" Ryou cleared his throat loudly and glanced pointedly at Dumbledore, who seemed to be chuckling quietly to himself. Malik stood up hastily, a flash of white teeth still exposed in a wide smirk. "Why are you smiling like that?" he asked cautiously.

Malik's grin grew wider. The sound of more clicks filled the air, and the rat-a-tat-tat of keys continued again.

Ryou groaned. "Are you and Mariku doing what I think you're doing?" he protested.

"Yup, but you're too late! Mariku's finishing up now!" he chuckled. Ryou pouted. The last time his computer had been left unattended in the hands of the Egyptian light and dark duo, it had been filled with a substantial amount of R rated content, of both the homoerotic and horror varieties, that Malik had taken a liking to. "So what's with the old guy?" Malik drawled casually, wrapping a friendly arm around Ryou as he changed the subject.

"He wants to take me to a special school," Ryou grumbled, stubbornly trying to ignore Malik's attempts to make amends with affectionate gestures.

"Really? That's really cool! But wait, what about the you-know-what with your you-know-what?" Malik asked in a conspiratorial whisper, placing his lips up close to Ryou's ear and masking the movement with a cupped hand.

Ryou's eyes flashed. "I think he suspects something's up with the ring, but he has magic. It'll be okay," Ryou whispered back. He stepped away from his friend and smiled again. "It'll be just fine. I'll make sure Bakura behaves. And I doubt you have to talk in code, I don't think he speaks Japanese."

Malik only laughed. Arms wrapped around them both and pulled them close to a warm body that smelled of shadow magic (a curiously sensual aroma that for some reason always reminded Ryou of a dark shade of purple) and sand. Very like Bakura, only with more sand than magic.

"Hey, Ryou, how pissed would Bakura be if he saw how close we are to you?" Mariku asked snidely. Bakura always got ticked off when people were close to his host, and the two knew it and enjoyed testing the boundaries.

"Well, right now he's seething in anger, so I'd say very," Ryou replied. "He'll calm down eventually. I'm going to go pack now. And Malik? Go home. I don't want to have to delete half of a computer's worth of data because it isn't safe for innocent eyes."

"But you said you enjoyed the pictures! You thought they were cool!" Malik took one look at Ryou's glare (of course borrowed from Bakura, who was used for the express purpose of twisting Ryou's features into something that was actually imposing with the skill only Bakura could possess) and revised his statement. "Fine, I'll go. But Ryou, I'll miss you so much!" he cried dramatically, throwing his arms around Ryou as if he were feeling faint.

"I'll miss you too. But you don't have to go right this second you know. You can help me pack," Ryou informed him. Malik squealed in delight and dragged Ryou to his bedroom.

"Oh my Ra, Ryou. I'm going to make you the most fashionable person at- wait. Where is this school? And anyway, what's it called?" he demanded.

"It's called Hogwarts. Remember when I explained what little I could remember about magic? Not the shadow stuff, but the good stuff my mom and dad used to do?" He nodded. "There's a school that teaches kids how to control it. I ran into a little trouble back in England and he said it would be safe there."

Mariku laughed aloud. "Haha, Ryou! The thief took you all the way to Europe? That's hilarious!"

"He didn't get you hurt, did he? And what did he need all the way out there?" Malik said, ignoring his yami. He had begun to help Ryou stuff the remaining clothes into another suitcase. Ryou was pleased to note that the sleeping pills were already in the other suitcase.

"I'm fine, but I don't even know. I'm actually really confused about it myself. But it'll be fun. And hey! I promise I'll visit you over Christmas holiday," Ryou said, perking up immensely at the thought.

Malik cheered. "Yes! We can spend that time scrambling around the pyramids! And maybe the thief will join us in breaking into a few that those silly archaeologists can't seem to get into," Malik said delightedly. Mariku seconded the notion. Bakura muttered 'moochers' under his breath.

Ryou finished shoving the rest of his things in his bag and pulled Malik into a tight hug. "Thanks for being so cool about this, Malik."

"No problem! We hikaris gotta stick together, you know. Thick and thin and all that bullshit."

Bakura growled something irritable about packing more knives, which Ryou ignored until Bakura stole control of his hand and did if for him, slipping several into hidden pockets in the suitcase. Mariku smirked from the corner, but Malik gave him a knowing, almost apologetic nod.

They exchanged smiles and walked back out to the main room. Dumbledore seemed to be closely examining a photograph taken in Egypt. There were many figures contained inside of it, Ryou himself, Bakura, Malik, Mariku, Yuugi, and Yami, as well as the rest of the gang. Along the edges, one could just make out the faces of Rishid and Ishizu. It had been on his last official trip to Egypt, the one he had taken with all of his friends. They decided to go back once after they had managed to stop Bakura, forever or so they thought, and had been very successful. It was celebratory.

It had been a great trip, even though Ryou hadn't been able to see his father again (the man was busy working out at the dig site). He had gotten to hang out with Malik, though. Ever since then, Ryou had exchanged a steady stream of letters, calls, and emails with the Egyptian boy. Sometimes Malik even flew out to Japan to see Ryou. Bakura liked to tease him about it for some reason, but Ryou didn't see why he bothered.

Bakura was just angry that the tomb keepers locked up the tomb with a key that mysteriously vanished sometime after they left. He knew Bakura was still scheming, but didn't think his yami had much of a chance of being victorious this time around either.

"I'll write you!" Ryou called, stepping back over to Dumbledore and taking the picture from him. It was stowed away in the bag as well after a brief, fond glance.

The man didn't disapparate immediately. Instead, he said, "Ryou, your friend will be returning to Egypt soon, I presume? Could you please ask him to pass on a message?"

Surprised, he gave a small, nonplussed nod. "Sure, but how did you know he was going back to Egypt?"

"I think you'll find I'm fairly familiar with the clans of tomb keepers. I've never met your friend Mr. Ishtar, but I'm sure he can help. If you could, tell him to inform your father to expect an owl."

"I can speak a little English," Malik said with a small pout, his words thickly accented. "I can tell him."

"Thanks, Malik," Ryou replied, switching back to Japanese to make it easier on the boy who, as aforementioned, spoke very limited English. "And tell my dad I'm sorry, and that I'll write him about this, too."

"No problem! Bye, Ryou! And you better write, or I'll ask Mariku to fill your computer with more prons! Then you'll be sorry!"

Ryou laughed, forgetting for a moment all of his discomfort as he disapparated. When they hit the ground again, however, all of that queasiness returned in a flash. His empty stomach heaved dryly, failing ultimately to retch the malcontent away. Soon, though, he settled down, and when he finally felt as though his stomach was through trying to leap out through his throat, he straightened up stiffly and struggled to pull on a weak smile to show he was fine.

A hand patted his shoulder gently, reassuringly, and Dumbledore began to speak. "Listen close, because I'll only say this once," he warned. Ryou nodded to show he was paying attention. "The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London. Remember it well and never share it with anyone."

"But there is no twelve," Ryou pointed out softly, looking intently at first the eleven, then the thirteen.

"Just watch," Dumbledore chuckled. Buildings began to shift, easing gently away from each other. Around them, people surged and cars rolled by, but they seemed oblivious to the rapidly expanding wall spanning between the two buildings. Even when it popped forward, sprouting windows and a door decorated with more of the scrawling wrought iron that seemed to be so popular around wizarding houses, they paid it no mind. A small '12' glittered by the door.

That answered that, Ryou supposed. Bakura seemed gleeful at the magical display for reasons Ryou failed to understand. He was steered across the street and led up the stone-block steps until he was standing inside.

Dumbledore stared at him levelly for a second before drawing out his wand, placing the tip on Ryou's fair forehead. His eyes crossed as they attempted to stare up at the now-glowing tip. The old wizard's face contorted into an expression of confusion.

"How strange. The spell I put on you seems to be gone."

"And that's bad?" Ryou asked.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Not necessarily. Only strange, my boy. You see, that spell was designed to be a paradox. The only way save myself of removing it would be if you were to remove it from yourself. Since the spell was designed to block your magic, it should be impossible. No, it's only highly curious." There was a small flash of suspicion in those watery blue eyes, but it was hidden well, and Ryou nearly missed it.

"Stay here for a moment," Dumbledore warned, walking into another room and leaving him alone. Ryou leaned against a nearby wall and sighed.

/_Was this your doing?_/ Ryou asked. _  
_

/Not mine. I didn't even know you had a spell on you. It would explain why this body is so weak, though.../ Bakura mused back.

Ryou's nose crinkled instinctively at the dig. /_It's just strange is all_/ he said finally. He was quiet for a moment, then sighed again.

/You know, hikari, we'd be home now if you hadn't stopped me/ Bakura said loftily, picking up on the turn Ryou's emotions were taking. /Having any regrets?/

_/No, it's not that I regret it, it's just that... I don't know/_

/Well if you aren't having any second thoughts, then you shouldn't act as mopey. It's annoying when you're depressed over petty things/

Ryou rolled his eyes. Leave it to Bakura to turn a typically kind sentiment to something selfish. Before he could respond, however, a girl with flaming red hair poked her head around a corner with a call of 'Harry?'. Her cheeks were a light red color that flushed darker when she saw Ryou.

"Sorry?" he asked questioningly, pointing at himself in confusion. She didn't reply, and instead chose to take off in a hurry, leaving him again alone. Another girl appeared, this one a brunette, at the top of the stairs.

"Did someone say Harry?" she asked.

"Harry's here?" a lanky redheaded boy added, stumbling into sight behind the girl.

"Uh..." Ryou began intelligently.

"Obviously not, Ron," the girl replied curtly to the other boy, descending the flight of stairs to stand before Ryou. "Don't mind them, we're all just waiting for a friend of ours to arrive. And who are you?" Her voice was much kinder as she said the last part, softening it in response to the obvious surprise and, admittedly, fear. He hadn't realized there would be so many people here.

"Oh, well, my name is Ryou Bakura," he said in a tiny voice. He offered them a small bow in greeting, blushing in embarrassment when he saw their confused looks. Perhaps it would be smart to shake hands in the foreseeable future, Ryou mused miserably.

The girl smiled at him. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Ron Weasley," the boy added.

"And the girl was Ginny, Ron's sister. She's a little shy," Hermione said. "If you don't mind me asking, how old are you? You don't look old enough to be a member, but I've never seen you at Hogwarts. Do you go to a different school?"

"Oh, well, I've lived in Japan for a while, so that might be it," Ryou mumbled timidly. "I've never gone to Hogwarts. But I might this year," he added, brightening visibly.

"Mr. Bakura? If you would please join us in here for a moment?" Dumbledore asked suddenly, poking his head around the door and interrupting the conversation.

Ryou blinked owlishly. "Of course," he replied.

"Professor? I'd like to talk to you about Harry-" Hermione began, but she was cut off.

"I'm sorry, Ms Granger, but you know the rules. I cannot allow you to give away anything important in your letters. Harry is safe, and that's all that matters at the moment." This was said with enough finality that the girl didn't bother protesting. She nodded glumly and sighed. With no further ado, Ryou moved his hand in a small 'goodbye' gesture, leaving his suitcases in the hall to join the wizard in what appeared to be a dining room full of a motley crew of strange characters.

This was turning into a familiar thing for Ryou- being led into all of these mysterious meetings. No wonder his parents had wanted to leave. Everything had to be so damn confusing, what with all of these secret organizations and alien, non-shadow magic. It was enough to make anyone's head spin. Apparently, wizards were very clique-y. Ryou made a mental note to remember that.

Dumbledore closed the door behind him, turning to face the group. Ryou could almost swear he saw a small flash of something flesh-toned wink into sight as the ajar door's crack turned to a smooth seam of wood meeting wood. It looked like an ear. Ryou shook himself, almost chuckling at his foolishness. An ear... he must be going crazy.

Somebody gestured to a chair at the head of the table, and Ryou took a seat. Everyone leered at him. And to think he had thought that the last meeting had felt like an interrogation! But it wasn't a thing like the other meeting. Where nearly everyone had been terrified of the man, Voldemort, who was unquestionably the leader, here, there seemed to be an easy awe and warm respect for Dumbledore. The old man was trusted, relied upon.

But when Ryou said motley crew, he wasn't kidding.

Around the table, there sat a gnarled, middle-aged man with a chunk missing from his nose and deep scars cut into his face. Most notable, however, was the strange, electric blue eye that whirled and spun in an artificial socket. There was also a girl who looked only a few years older than him with a shock of chartreuse hair whose color almost put Yuugi's to shame. In fact, Ryou didn't think he'd ever seen hair such a brilliant shade of green this far from Japan. The girl winked at him, catching his surprised look, and her hair rippled and shifted to a bright bubblegum pink. She sat near a gaunt man who looked like he'd missed one too many meals and baths.

A tall, lean man with skin darker that even Malik's bronze skin sat beside the sickly man, and the next people were a slightly plump woman with bright red hair and what appeared to be her husband. More people sat beside them, and Ryou gave each person a brief, cursory glance as he took in each occupant. There were more people than he had initially realized. Some even stood, since there weren't enough chairs. Not all of them looked nice, though, especially not the pale man with long black hair and a cruel-looking hooked nose. Something about the man's face looked familiar. A wolfish man was staring curiously at him from the other side of the room.

"So, Mr. Bakura," Dumbledore began, looking as though he were doing his best to appear light and friendly, though it contrasted with the stern tone he had used only moments before. "Do you think you could answer a few of our questions?"

"Really, Dumbledore, give the boy a break! The poor dear looks terrified, he probably doesn't understand a thing about what's going on," the redheaded woman protested automatically.

Dumbledore gave her a small smile and shook his head. "Sorry Molly, but I'm afraid that it is a necessary precaution. Now, Ryou, I believe we should start from the beginning, as all the best stories do. Tell me, what do you know of the millennium ring you wear around your neck?"

Ryou's heart dropped and his eyes grew wide. The ring glinted innocuously in the low light. 'So they knew,' Ryou mused miserably. 'Dumbledore really did know I wasn't alone.' But that still begged the question, just how much did Dumbledore know? It was Malik and his family's job to keep all information on the items hidden, and he'd never known them to be overtly lax. /Test him, why don't you?/ Bakura grumbled, startling Ryou.

_/Alright. He might not even know much about it- that could be why he's asking me/_ Ryou agreed easily after only a brief moment of thought. It was the only thing that made sense. So Ryou did the first thing that occurred to him- he played stupid. "Well, it's from Egypt, right?" he said innocently. "And it's really old?"

"Precisely, Ryou. And it contains a very dark magic. In fact, I believe it is something called a horcrux, which is an object in which someone has sealed a portion of their soul. I have reason to believe you are possessed by a fragment of a very evil soul who happens to inhabit it."

/There goes the 'not knowing too much about' thing you were talking about/ Bakura said bluntly. /Eh, oh well. Might as well tell the old man about me. If the creepy guy knows, I say why not?/

Ryou rolled his eyes. Bakura was being a little careless about this whole thing in Ryou's opinion. He was just going to give up his secrets for the second time today in a room full of random strangers?

/Plus he was obviously faking everything earlier. You and Malik probably gave everything away, and it wouldn't surprise me if he knew enough Japanese to understand everything you two said/ Bakura added. Ryou sighed. As his evil spirit liked to say, 'Bakura knows best'. The funny thing was the he did tend to be right, so Ryou had no reason to argue the point, at least, not right now.

When the two started getting along (or at least stopped hating each other every second of every day), they'd each made several concessions to the other, almost like accepted rules and easy generalizations. This just happened to be one of Bakura's points. Others included 'swearing at injuries actually does make them feel better, so that makes it okay' and 'stealing is okay so long as Ryou doesn't know about it'.

Ryou happened to like the rules 'swearing is not accepted in general society', 'murder is never okay', 'you are not allowed to steal', 'please don't steal from people', and 'if you must steal, don't get caught'. Ryou had many others, but Bakura tended to ignore the majority of them. So Ryou did as Bakura suggested. And really, how bad could it be? Worst case scenario, Bakura would take them back to Japan again. His yami would just hide them in the shadows a while until the chaos died down and they could go back to life as usual.

"Yes," Ryou breathed simply after the (to everyone else) long period of silence. This surprised everyone. Well, everyone but Dumbledore, who only sighed. The greasy-haired man sneered as though he weren't surprised either.

Dumbledore sighed. "I figured as much from your conversation with the young Mr. Ishtar."

/Told you so/

_/Don't even go there/_ Ryou sighed.

"I have to ask- how much control does he have over you? What sort of powers does he possess?"

/_How much do you want to tell them?_/ _  
_

/Tell them everything. Yeah, and then tell them that I'm a fluffy bunny, I enjoy using the song 'In the Jungle' to mask the screams of my victims, and that you're secretly Canadian/

/_Sooo... as little as possible?_/

/What else, hikari?/

/_Just checking... No need to get testy__/_

/I'm sure you'd be a bit testy too if you had to put up with morons day in and day out/

/_They aren't that bad!_/

/I wasn't talking about them/ Bakura chuckled.

Ryou flushed and wracked his brains for something he could say without getting in trouble with either Bakura or Dumbledore. "Well, um... what all do you already know about him? I don't want to repeat something you already know," he said, succeeding in sounding sufficiently apologetic.

Dumbledore's kind smile, however, told Ryou that he fully understood that Ryou was lying through his teeth but wouldn't press since the others had obviously yet to realize. "Severus has kindly informed me that he seems to be able to manifest a solid body and can manipulate a sort of magic that appears to be unique to this world. He also looks very similar to you, and it would seem he is able to somehow communicate silently with you based off the way your eyes go unfocused for long periods of time before answering. Does all this match up with the soul's abilities?"

/And he's figured it all out because of your face. Nice going/ Bakura said scathingly.

Ryou's nose scrunched up in irritation. /_Maybe if you weren't so chatty today we wouldn't have this problem_/

/Hey, don't turn this on me. You're the one who's supposed to keep your nose clean and out of trouble, so get us out of this. Or do you want me to take over?/

/_Uh, no, um, I don't think that will be necessary. I'll take care of this. And DON'T HURT ANYONE_/ Ryou thought, feeling his eyes widen instinctively.

/Awww, is cute little hikari trying to give big-boy orders now?/

/_I'm going to ignore you now_/

/Good luck with that/ Ryou clasped his hands together pointedly, trying to tune the voice out. /And it isn't working, is it?/

"Well, yes, that's... right. But I usually call the spirit Bakura," Ryou said through clenched teeth, making an effort to block Bakura.

"Odd, isn't it, to call him by your own given surname?"

/Why does everyone think you named me?/ Bakura sighed sarcastically.

"I didn't. That was his name when he was alive," Ryou said simply. "Since people assumed he was me anyway, he continued to use the name."

/Other names for me include Koe, Yami, Yami no Bakura, Spirit of the Millennium Ring, Touzoku-ou, Akefia, Thief King, Tomb Robber, Stealer of Souls, Master of the Shadow Realm, Future King of the World, and so on. You, however, usually call me Bakura, 'Kura, Mou Hitori no Boku, Aibou, or Koi/ Bakura teased.

"Bakura!" Ryou yelled suddenly, clutching his head in a sudden flash of anger.

/Ah, my hikari is mad. What is it this time?/

"When have you ever gone by any of those?" he said, forgetting to send it via mind-link. "And I've never called you Koi!"

/You just did. Inadvertently/

"Shut it, 'Kura," Ryou grumbled, defeated and giving up. It was pointless to fight Bakura like this. Everyone was staring at him. "What? He's very annoying. He's listing all the names he likes to go by," he added, noting the mystified expressions.

"And those would be?"

/Future King of the World. C'mon, hikari, tell them. Future King of the World. Five words. Do it, I dare you/ Ryou sighed. "Far too many to bother listing."

/_No way in hell am I calling you Future King of the World_/

/You're such a spoilsport, you know?/

/_You're darn right_/

/I think you meant damn skippy, but it works well enough I suppose/

"I take it you have no way of tuning him out?" Dumbledore asked.

Ryou shook his head. "He can block me from hearing him sometimes, but for the most part, our minds are open books. His thoughts are mine, and mine are his."

"Do you ever struggle to remain yourself under such a dark influence?" someone off to the side asked. He looked like he'd be one of the aurors his father had mentioned once, years ago. He had a steadiness to his eyes and a calm, collected mind that rationalized everything that seemed like it would aid such a career choice.

Ryou only laughed. "I used to. He made me suicidal for the longest time," he said lightly, not noticing the horror-struck expressions on several faces, "but he's been around for so long he's become a fixture in my mind. I don't know what I'd do without him. No, I'm myself. Actually, I'm myself now thanks to him. Our souls are kinda like two pieces that fit together perfectly, but without each other, are almost incomplete in a way. He may be evil, but I am, as Bakura likes to put it, 'incorruptible'. I'm sorta the 'yang' to his 'yin', if you will."

Several people seemed deeply troubled by this. The red-haired woman looked as if she were about to pitch a fit.

"Bakura can be mean, and he certainly has some evil plans to take over the world, but he isn't all bad. He's just a bit of a kleptomaniac, and every now and again I can even keep him from killing people. He has, in a way, done almost all that I've asked of him. Sure, he's a bit of a meany-face in that he twists my desires, but he does mean the best in respects to me. I think he just doesn't know any better than to be a jerk."

/Watch it, hikari/

/_Watch what?_/

Ryou could almost feel Bakura's glare, and smiled a little to himself.

"What do you mean, desires? What have you asked of him?"

Ryou sighed sadly. Of course, he shouldn't have let that slip. But he had and it was too late. His mahogany eyes rose up to meet those of the asker, another of the auror-people. "I wanted friends who would never leave me, never hurt me, never beat me up," he said, slightly bitterly. "And Bakura twisted what I wanted and stole people's souls, locking them in my figurines for an RPG game I play. He's only given back a few of them. Those coma patients who woke up recently? That was me, finally convincing Bakura to give a few back. It only took 7 years." Ryou's tone was downright acerbic at this point.

Bakura chuckled at Ryou's frustration. The shoe was on the other foot now. Happy Bakura, unhappy Ryou again.

"Is there any way to separate the two of you? Make it so he can't take you over anymore?" the now pink-haired woman asked.

Ryou shook his head. "No, shadow magic doesn't work that way. I don't think it's possible. The thing about Bakura is that he has very sticky fingers. Once he takes something, he doesn't like to give it back. It's why you won't be able to separate us," Ryou finished, finally taking into account the others' expressions.

It was as plain as day on their faces- they wanted to destroy Bakura. And Bakura wasn't particularly pleased by their faces. In fact, they annoyed him quite a bit. There was a reason Ryou had once called Bakura bipolar. He could switch between contentedness and fury at the drop of a pin, and then back again.

"Shadow magic? You say that as though it's something completely different. What do you mean? What is it?" an unkempt raven-haired man asked. He had a wolfish appearance to him and looked like he hadn't seen the light of day in a while. Ryou really wished they'd wear name tags, or introduce themselves.

"Well, I don't know everything about your magic, but his magic is different. I call it shadow magic because that's what it is. Oh, but I really can't give too much more than that away," Ryou added, almost apologetically. "But how did you know about him at all?" That part made Ryou curious. Where did he hear about Bakura?

Dumbledore chuckled. "As I've said before, I know a great many things and speak a great many languages," he added with a wink. "I've heard rumors, but I did hope they weren't true. I only realized the full truth when Severus came forward and informed me of what happened today," Dumbledore mentioned, gesturing to the decidedly unpleasant-looking man with the hook-nose.

The more Ryou looked at him, the more familiar he became, until Ryou finally figured out where he had seen the man. He had been one of the men at the other meeting, Ryou was almost sure of it. It had been hard to see faces in the shadows, but this one was quite distinctive. It was a wonder he hadn't figured it out before. Ryou didn't hesitate to point this out, but it only made Dumbledore laugh.

"Yes, Severus has Voldemort convinced that he is loyal only to him, but he is still a member of the Order," Dumbledore replied.

"He's a double agent?" Ryou asked, silver brows rising.

Dumbledore chuckled, while Severus glared. "You could say that," Dumbledore said. "At any rate, Severus has already informed me of what occurred earlier today. I simply needed to hear from you about your 'spirit', since I trust you would know better than anyone about him."

"I guess so..." Ryou said. "But that still doesn't explain why you're asking me all these questions."

"It's because we may need your assistance. We already had a fairly good idea of the situation, but we needed to get a scope of the malignant soul before we could ask."

/_Why does everyone want our help?_/

/Because we're dead sexy. Obviously/

"Well, we might be able to help... I mean, Bakura's cooperation mostly depends on what it is, but I'd love to help however I can. Bakura would only do it if it was worth his while, and there isn't much that he wants."

"Is he nearby? Could you ask him if he'd be willing to assist us?"

Ryou smiled. "Oh, he's right here," he said, tapping his forehead with his index finger. "He doesn't like me being in situations like these, so he doesn't dare leave me alone. He says I'm so innocent and naive I could get the body injured, so he's making sure nothing happens to me. I've managed to get him to the point where he only hurts people who hurt me first. Is it sad that that's a major improvement?"

"Is he usually so protective of you?"

"Pretty much. Otherwise, he'd probably be looting this house for valuables," Ryou mentioned, picking up a discarded piece of silverware that had been left on the table near where he sat. "Is this real silver? I bet it is... Bakura likes silver almost as much as gold," he said almost fondly.

/You're correct on both accounts/ Bakura said with a wry smirk. /Quick, tuck it in your pocket when they aren't looking!/

/_I'm not stealing from them_/ he replied, placing it gingerly back on the table.

"Ah, Bakura's a bad influence. I don't condone thievery, but he's almost impulsive about it. Did you know he taught me how to pick pockets? Apparently if you place seven bells on a suit jacket and can steal a wallet without making even one of them ring, you're ready for real people? He's terrible. Modern times have nothing on his title, Touzoku-ou. It means 'King of Thieves, if you didn't know."

"What you're saying is that he's very selfish and possessive, correct?" Dumbledore mused.

Ryou nodded. A small smile grew on Dumbledore's lips.

"Then this makes things very simple. There is a boy named Harry Potter, and I would like your help watching out for him. From what little I've heard of the item you wear around your neck, I know that it is very powerful. If you could ingratiate yourself as a friend, you would hopefully provide another layer of protection. You see, Voldemort wishes very much to kill the boy, and we can't allow that to happen. Everything would be lost. If you could convince the soul, or even tap into the reservoir of power stored in the item, then hopefully you can help watch out for him. These are dangerous times, Mr. Bakura, and we could use the help."

"But how is that simple?" Ryou asked worriedly.

"If the soul is willing to kill to protect you, the hope stands that if something dire happens to Harry, the same courtesy would be extended to him as well."

"You want to use the boy as a shield?" someone asked, outraged.

"Calm down, Sirius, that isn't what I meant. Didn't the boy just say he wanted friends? And wouldn't you say that Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, and Ms. Granger are a very accepting group?"

/He's meddling. I don't like him/

/_But he's a good guy, I can tell. He's just looking out for that Harry person_/

/I still don't like it. He's asking me to look out for that Potter boy like he's someone who can change everything with his death. It would be like me asking that Moldymort freak to make sure Yugi never so much as stubs his toe. I'm not gonna do it, hikari, you can tell him that right now. I'm an ass, but I'm not that much of an ass to people who share even a little of my idealism. Moldymort's a moron, but at least he isn't all goody-goody like the happy-go-lucky friendly little duel group you like so much/

/_C'mon, please Bakura? You didn't even like Voldemort_/

/I think I like him better than I like Dumbledorf/ Bakura growled. /He's at least a little more straightforward in what he wants/

"Mr. Bakura? Ryou?" Dumbledore said, attracting Ryou's attention back to the situation at hand. He sounded as if he had been calling for a while. "What did he say?"

"He was telling me doesn't want to," Ryou said. "But I'll try and bring him around. I really do want to help you. I don't like that Voldemort and I want to do what I can to stop him."

"A noble aspiration, to be sure. This is excellent news. However, there is a catch. I would rather you not tell anyone outside of this room about this just yet. Can I trust you with this, Mr. Bakura?"

"Yes, you can. I won't tell them," he said. "I've only told a few people, and then they already knew about it anyway."

"Perfect. This meeting is over, then. Good luck."

/Hikari, you officially suck/

* * *

After Ryou had been swept into the meeting, Hermione and Ron were left alone in the hall to wonder what was happening. One of the aurors shooed them away after noticing them lingering there, and forced them to return to the top of the stairs to think about the strange events that had just occurred.

"Hey, 'Mione, are there any magic schools in Japan?" Ron asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Sorry, Ron, I don't know. I don't think so, though, I'm sure I would have read about it before."

"Weird... I wonder what he's doing in there. Hey, what're Fred and George doing?" Ron asked, glancing up another flight of stairs to see his twin brothers with something held between their fingers. It was lowering slowly down towards the door, reaching doorknob level at about the same time the door swung shut.

"I don't know," she said, starting to climb up to them. "But it can't be good, whatever it is." She tapped one of them on the shoulder and both turned to face her with broad grins. "What are you two up to?"

"We're testing something out," one began.

"But it isn't working right," the other finished.

"What is it? Can I see?" Ron asked.

"Hermione, you know a lot of spells don't you?" Fred asked.

"I know a few," she replied tentatively, not fully sure she would approve of exactly what it is the twins were doing.

They grinned at her mischievously. "We just need something to amplify sound a little more. Sonorus just isn't working enough," George mentioned.

"Are you using it on voices or on general sound? Because Sonorus only works on one voice at a time. If you're amplifying everything, Occinus Dilato works better."

The twins' grins grew wider, and George drew a wand from his pocket. "Thanks, Hermione," Fred said, yanking on the fleshy object so it would retract to his hands.

He held it out and George waved the wand over it, saying "Occinus Dilato," just as Hermione had. It took several tries, but eventually the spell stuck, bewitching what looked like an ear to magnify sound much better than before. He smiled impishly, and the expression was mirrored on his twin.

"What is that?" she asked.

"We call them extendable ears," George said as Fred dropped the fleshy object over the side of the railing again. He held onto a pale string that connected it to his hand, and it spun slowly, appearing for all the world as if it moved in the breeze until it abruptly ceased its motion, quivering to a stop pointed at the door.

There was an echoing sound coming from the ear, as well as quiet babble as the ear adjusted automatically to the level of sound eking through the door. Slowly, individual voices became discernible.

"What did he say?" That voice was obviously Dumbledore's.

"He was telling me he doesn't want to," a softer voice said. It sounded exactly like the boy they had met earlier. "But I'll try and bring him around. I really do want to help you. I don't like that Voldemort and I want to do what I can to stop him."

"You're spying on them!" Hermione said, shocked.

"Quiet, 'Mione! I'm trying to listen," Ron hissed, leaning his head in closer to their end of the ear.

"-there is a catch. I would rather you not tell anyone outside of this room about this just yet. Can I trust you with this, Mr. Bakura?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, you can. I won't tell them," Ryou replied. "I've only told a few people, and then they already knew about it anyway."

"Perfect. This meeting is over, then. Good luck."

Eyes widening as they heard that, Fred and George took the end of the string away and ripped it back up to their level. Just in time, too, because as soon as the string was wound up, the door swung open and Dumbledore stepped out, bidding them goodbye.

Just before he left, he turned back to Ryou. "Oh, yes, and I forgot to mention, you'll have to ask the others for tutoring. I'm afraid that you're already very behind, and will have to study much harder than the others until you catch up. Likewise, though you will be of age soon, you will still have to attend fifth-year level courses due to exams. I'm afraid that you still need to prepare for your OWL's before you can take your NEWT's. Good luck, Mr. Bakura." Dumbledore said, turning tail and leaving before Ryou could say anything in response.

It was silent downstairs for a moment, the usual idle chatter that occurred after most meetings gone. They were all staring at Ryou as if they had seen a ghost.

Hermione felt something inside of her grow just a little worried as she looked at the expressions on their faces. Many of them had pity, others outright fear or distrust. It made no sense. That, coupled with the strange secret Ryou would be keeping from everyone not in the Order, and she felt some of her own distrust building.

Was he supposed to spy on someone? And who was this mysterious person Ryou was referring to? He mentioned stopping Voldemort, but did he really mean it? Hermione wasn't sure what to think, and she didn't like it. Not to mention his name. She had no idea where she had seen the name Ryou Bakura before, but it seemed vaguely familiar to her. That settled it- she was going to the Black family library right after dinner to do some investigating.

Ron's mother trotted into sight and noticed the two standing at the top of the stairs. Fred and George had vanished. "You two! You'll need to show Ryou to his room. The one on the second floor will do," she said, pointing behind them. She turned back to Ryou. "Why don't you drop your stuff off in your room and then come down for dinner? You look thin, you poor dear," she practically cooed to him.

"Ano... thank you," he said bashfully, grabbing his suitcase as she returned to the kitchen. For some reason he winced as he pulled the two suitcases he had brought with him toward the stairs. Hermione smiled kindly at him, trying to look as though she didn't have any reservations about him whatsoever.

He didn't look like a spy. Actually, he looked like a young, frightened child, which made no sense considering how Dumbledore said he was almost of age.

Ron ended up carrying one of Ryou's suitcases upstairs despite the strange boy's protests otherwise. Hermione didn't know if it was pride or what, but even as the boy winced, he informed him that it was absolutely nothing, his arms were just a little sore.

He stubbornly insisted on dragging his suitcases the moment Ron had crested the stairs, especially after Ron mentioned how heavy it was. Actually, what Ron had said was "Bloody hell! What did you put in this thing?". Ryou had blushed furiously in embarrassment and snatched the handle away from him before Ron could even take a step. That had been another suspicious moment, although Hermione wasn't sure if it was born from what looked like Ryou's refusal to accept help from anyone, or if he was hiding something from them.

Hermione decided to give Ryou the benefit of the doubt, however. "So, uh, Bakura, why did you-"

"Don't call me Bakura," Ryou whispered. His eyes looked curiously red as he said this, as if they had lost all of the green sheen that they had when they had met. "Please, just call me Ryou. I am not Bakura." Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. The eyes melted to liquid chocolate and there was a genuine-looking smile on his face. "Mm-kay?" The head was tilted just-so to the side, and a faint line of bangs skimmed his eyes.

Hermione didn't want to admit it, but for a moment he had looked so purely innocent it seemed impossible that he could have meant anything ill by it. But that still meant nothing. No matter how honest that smile seemed, she didn't trust him.

"So... here's your room," Ron said. "It's right next to mine. Hermione's is downstairs with Ginny. You can come down for dinner whenever, but I'd suggest not being too late. My mum's a bit of a mother hen, so she's probably going to feed you until you explode. Don't worry, she does that to everyone."

Ryou smiled again. "Thank you very much," he said sweetly. Hermione didn't trust him one bit.

* * *

**Have I mentioned I hate this chapter? Because I do. That meeting went nothing like I wanted it to, and I'm not used to the characterizations of Hermione and Ron AT ALL. Now I have to fix the plot a little again. ****On the other hand, Pandora is my new best friend. Yay music! *headdesk* For the record, I probably will go back and fix this chapter later.**

**Another thing- I've been updating this pretty much every two weeks, but I might be spending a week at the lake with my friends soon and if I do, then that means I may be even later posting than I am this time. Please forgive me?**

**Make sure you leave reviews! They inspire me to write and I wouldn't be opposed to posting before I leave rather than after if it's done, but I won't be done that quickly if I don't get some love from you people. Peace out, bitches! Laaav and all that.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Posted early, because you guys are great and I managed to finish right before I have to leave. Also, I'm**** finally starting to adjust to non-YGO characterizations, which is good because I usually adapt faster. Characterization is usually one of my strong suits, yet I made everyone OOC in this story. I hope it is entertaining nonetheless.**

**Also, my wonderful reviewers raised valid points about the meeting, so I'll explain the way I see it. Ryou said so much because Bakura likes notoriety. He likes having people think he's evil, and if they know he is, he doesn't have to do a thing to reaffirm this conjecture. That's why he doesn't bother lying, quieting the babbling Ryou, or consider escaping. He wanted to be seen as bad. And since Ryou real****ly wants to go to Hogwarts, he's going to find a way to enjoy it for the time being in his own diabolical way. That's why he does what he does. Sound good? **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The moment Ryou had shut the door on them, the fevered whispering had begun.

"Ron, did he seem strange to you?" Hermione asked in a hushed tone, one eye on the doorknob as they walked away.

Ron scratched his head. "Well, a little. But he just got here. He's probably still weirded out by this house. You thought something was going to jump out of the curtains and bite you for a whole week," he pointed out.

Hermione frowned at him. That was a poor example- she still thought there was something in the curtains. She had a bad feeling it was doxies, but she hadn't said it yet because she knew Ron would say it wasn't and that she was crazy.

"Give the guy a chance."

She sighed. Maybe she should try something else. "Alright. But didn't his name seem familiar?" she pressed.

Ron was quiet for a moment, but shook his head. "Not really. I've never heard that name before in my life. Why, should I?"

"I don't know," she said. "It just sounds familiar, is all. I think we should ask one of the order members about him still. I want to know why he's only just now going to Hogwarts. Dumbledore said he was almost seventeen. That would make him a seventh year, but he's going into the fifth year with us."

"Whatever, 'Mione," Ron said with a shrug.

They made their way to the dining room. It was much emptier now that many of the members had left to resume their usual lives. Hermione wondered vaguely who was guarding Harry right now, but then realized she'd probably never find out. The Order of the Phoenix was highly secretive about everything. They wouldn't even allow anyone who wasn't of-age in on any information, despite protests from Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny.

Hermione had only found out about the Harry security detail when she had overhead it walking by the door. After that, the door had been jinxed so that during meetings, it was impossible for someone to stand outside. Apparently the jinx wasn't extended to the twins' new extendable ears, or Crookshanks for that matter. The bandy-legged cat once sat outside the door and mewed for a solid ten minutes until someone shooed it away too.

"Hey, Tonks?" she said tentatively. The auror beamed at her.

"What's up, Hermione?"

"That new boy, Ryou Bakura. What's he doing here?"

"Professor Dumbledore needed him for something. Tippy-top secret, though. Sorry. I'd love to tell you what it is, but I think Molly would kill me," Tonks said with a brazen grin.

"What can you tell us about him, then?" Ron asked, frowning. He was no less frustrated than Hermione about the lack of information, and also tended to be the more vocal one about never getting to know anything.

"What I can tell you is that he's never gone to a school for magic before," she confided. "Dumbledore just picked him up in Wiltshire and brought him here, saying he's magic. I don't know if he is, but I know he's got some magic," she said with a wink.

"That doesn't make any sense," Hermione protested.

"It actually does," Lupin said, breaking into the conversation easily. "She just shouldn't have said it."

Tonks flushed in embarrassment. "H-hey, Remus," she said, giving him an awkward wave. "Didn't know you were listening."

"Dumbledore's meetings are top secret. Ron, Hermione, I'm very sorry, but we aren't at liberty to say much more. Ryou has a very important job to do and the best thing you can do is help him however you can. We'll all be pitching in to help him catch up on the classes he's missed, and it's your job to help him study when we aren't around to teach him ourselves."

Hermione nodded. There was not one, not two, but three people in the order who had taught at Hogwarts at some point or another. Well, technically. Moody had never gotten around to doing much teaching, but she figured he would have made a fairly good teacher too. He certainly knew his stuff.

But they all had jobs in addition to the Order, and would probably end up being too busy to do a whole lot with Ryou. And, knowing Ron, he'd be absolutely no help to Ryou. It would likely end up being her who would spend the most time helping him get ready for his OWL's this year.

Then a thought occurred to her- perhaps she could use this as an opportunity to find out what was going on. Even if this was the only meeting Ryou was allowed into, she could still learn a little about what was going on from him. And if he became a regular member, that could end up being even better, despite her distrust of him.

"I'll help him catch up," she promised.

"Great," Lupin said, smiling at her. "Just... keep an eye on him. Ryou might be a little unpredictable, and I don't want anything to happen to Harry. Dumbledore trusts him, but I don't know if I do yet. He'll only be here for a week or so anyway, just long enough for him to catch up a little before leaving again."

Hermione bit her tongue. This was what she was worried about. Even Lupin didn't like Ryou. And just where would he be headed?

"Hermione dear, could you and Ron please fetch the others for dinner?"

"Of course, Mrs. Weasley," she said, keeping her tone level as she spoke so as not to betray her inner thoughts. "C'mon, Ron."

They climbed the stairs, and Ron volunteered to brave the twins' room to fetch them. Hermione knew he was curious as to what they were up to, she was slightly curious, too. Those extendable ears hadn't exactly been simple magic. The twins weren't stupid, but over the years she had seen them in action, doing their mischievous deeds with little regard for much else, she had never known them to do such advanced magic in their quest for chaos. That was tough magic for just a little eavesdropping.

Hermione agreed, though, and they separated at the top of the stairs, Ron continuing to climb while she went down the hall to the room she shared with Ginny. She opened the door to see Ginny with a book in her hands, legs crossed on the bed.

"Hey, Hermione," she said with a smile.

"Hey, Ginny. Your mom says it's time for dinner."

"Thanks. And Hermione? Who was that guy earlier? I heard you talking to him but I kinda embarrassed myself and didn't want to go back down and say hi myself," Ginny said abashedly.

Hermione paused for a moment. Should she tell Ginny her fears, or let the girl form her own opinion? She made a quick decision, answering after only a small pause. "Oh, him. His name is Ryou Bakura. He'll be going to school with us this year," she said. "He'll be a fifth year, but he needs tutoring since he hasn't had any formal instruction before."

She decided to let Ginny meet him for herself, and see the doubts on the others' faces. If Ginny noticed it too, then Hermione would know for sure that something was up.

"His name sounds familiar," Ginny mused.

"I thought the same!" Hermione said. Strike one.

Hermione allowed the conversation to slip into more idle chat as they began walking upstairs to find Ron. "Is his hair really that color or does he dye it?" Ginny asked.

"What? Oh, the white? I don't know. I didn't ask," she said. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason. Just curious," Ginny replied.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something else, but froze mid-syllable. She heard something from Ryou's room, and it sounded like Ryou's voice. As they got closer, the muffled tone grew slightly louder and clearer until they could hear quite plainly.

"Headless Knight... Possessed Painting... What? A Change of Heart? Bakura, why did you put this here? Hmm... Oh well, it's not a big deal. I can fix this, easy."

"He talks to himself?" Ginny asked.

"I guess so," Hermione replied, knocking gently on the door. "Ryou, it's Hermione and Ginny," she said.

"Come on in!" Ryou called. They swung the door open and saw him surrounded by piles of trading cards, their glossy surfaces sorted into piles that were fanned out so the title of every card was displayed, even if the picture wasn't. Several perfectly aligned stacks sat precariously balanced on his thighs. "I'm very sorry. I would have gotten the door for you, but... These cards make it a little difficult to stand up," he said with a nervous chuckle.

"It's fine," Ginny said. "What kind of cards are they?"

A genuine smile flickered across Ryou's face. "Duel monsters. It's a really fun game, and it's really popular in Japan. All of my friends play it."

And just like that, Hermione realized why Ryou's name was so familiar, as if she had been struck by an inspirational lightning bolt.

There had been a story on the national news awhile back about a massive tournament held in some place called 'Battle City'. It had been a small report, mostly a side mention, but they had listed some of the 'celebrity duelists' taking part. The name everyone had been talking about was someone called Yuugi Motou, but Ryou had gotten a mention himself.

Hermione had forgotten all about it the moment the words had come out of the newscaster's mouth. She didn't play games like that, she never had, and the game was never as popular anywhere in Europe as it was in Japan anyway. But now there was no doubt in her mind, this was the same Ryou Bakura mentioned in the story. Now if only she could remember exactly what they had said about him...

"That sounds fun," Ginny said. "C'mon, it's time for dinner. My mum's an amazing cook."

The smile wavered. "Dinner?" he asked. Ryou's stomach growled a little bit. Ginny only laughed. Ryou stared at her as if he had never seen a girl before and thought she was some oddity to be studied, his eyes a dark brown as they looked her over.

He moved the cards off his lap, standing. As if the light hitting him had changed, the eyes flashed green in the light of the hallway. He stared at the wall with a disapproving glare for the briefest of seconds before walking as if nothing had happened. He paused at the top of the stairs and smiled at them. "Thank you," he said in a small voice.

"For what?" Hermione couldn't help but ask.

"For being so nice to me, even though I know you don't like me."

* * *

Chaos ruled Number 4 Privet Drive. And in the heart of that chaos there was a single dark-haired boy who just wanted to watch the local news.

"I said get out of the house! Normal boys don't watch the news!" Petunia shrieked, ushering him from the house with a rolled-up newspaper.

"Just look at Dudley, he's gone every day for tea his friends," Vernon added, a fat vein throbbing violet against the harsh red pallor of his neck. Harry fought back a humorless laugh at that. They had no clue Dudley had spent his entire summer thus far beating up anyone smaller than his enormous girth with his gang.

He beat a hasty retreat from the living room, running outside. He had to find a way to stay in touch with the goings-on that played out on the television, if only to make sure Voldemort did nothing suspicious. As of yet, there had been nothing, but Harry would still focus on what was happening, if only to forget however temporarily about the lack of information he was receiving.

Since he had landed on the perfectly manicured street of Privet Drive, he hadn't heard a word about anything important. It was frustrating to say the least. He had witnessed Voldemort's resurrection and the murder of fellow-champion Cedric Diggory. He still had nightmares about it, times when he awoke in a cold sweat with his throat hoarse. He felt he deserved a little information.

So what he needed to do now, he decided, was find a new spot. Just sitting in the living room wouldn't work. He pondered for a moment, his feet naturally slipping onto the quickest route to the park. Maybe sitting on the stairs, out of sight from his aunt and uncle, would do the job. It would have to work, for now.

* * *

"Ron, did he seem strange to you?" The words were whispered, but the walls were thin. Ryou could hear them, and they stung. They hurt. They hurt so badly.

He knew he was new, and he knew that his arrival had been unexpected and unusual. But he hadn't expected that, right off the bat, they would hate him. And that's what it was. That's what it had to be.

It seemed that everywhere he went, he was destined to be mistrusted. But that's just how it always happened, and there was no escaping it. This distrust, it followed him like a plague. It was inescapable.

The whispers. The leery looks. He met them everywhere they went, him and Bakura. Because he was strange. He was different. And people could just sense it. He moved like a broken doll, eyes glazed and with a heartbreaking expression on his face. Ryou was in shock. Hadn't Dumbledore said they were accepting?

He'd been hopeful. He could do some good by watching out for the Potter boy, and in the process he would make friends. It was supposed to be easy, like when Yuugi had accepted him in spite of what had happened with Bakura. It was supposed to be like how Malik understood the hurt Ryou had been put through because he, too, had gone through something similar. Accepting.

/Hey hikari? Remember when I said I sorted the decks?/ Bakura interrupted.

/_I'm in the middle of being upset. Can't this wait?_/ Ryou sniffled.

/I lied. And I want my deck back/

/_Why?_/

/Why did I lie or why do I want my deck back?/

_/__Either. Both_/

/I felt like getting you moving, and I want to explore the house/

/_And here I thought you were overprotective. So you're just going to abandon me in a strange house with people who don't like me?_/

/Pretty much, yeah. I doubt they'd do anything anyway. And I can be at your side instantly anyway, so chill/

Ryou huffed, pulling his deck from his pocket. Bakura's plopped into existence beside him. Ryou started spreading the cards out around him. He started with Bakura's first, knowing the spirit would be in a huff all night if he didn't get it done.

Bakura materialized beside Ryou, semi-translucent. "I would not!" he said with a pout.

Ryou cracked a small smile but didn't look up from his work. "You're already are," he giggled.

"I should break your pinky finger for saying that."

"But you won't."

"You, hikari, are far too complacent. Kids these days..."

"You sound like an old man when you say that," Ryou hummed.

"I better, I'm five-fucking-thousand years old. At least I still look damn good for my age," Bakura said with a grin. Ryou laughed in spite of himself, even though he knew he should scold Bakura for swearing. His eyes flickered down to the cards again, refocusing. Bakura sat back into his mind, watching through Ryou's eyes again.

"Let's see here..." Ryou muttered to himself as he sorted. "Diabound Colonel is yours, and Man-Eater Bug is mine. This one's Ghost Duke."

/Mine/ Bakura said, taking control of Ryou's right hand while Ryou sorted with his left.

"Headless Knight," Ryou continued.

/Mine/

"Possessed Painting."

/Mine/

"What? A Change of Heart? Bakura, why did you put this here?"

/I was reaching for the Ouija Board card/

"Hmm... Oh well, it's not a big deal. I can fix this, easy."

Bakura's sorting hand froze. /I think I heard something outside/ he began, before a knock at the door echoed in the room.

Ryou frowned to himself. Buried in cards as he was, there would be no simple way of standing quickly. "Come on in!" he called, wondering who it could possibly be. The door swung open and revealed Hermione and the red-haired girl from earlier. "I'm very sorry. I would have gotten the door for you, but... These cards make it a little difficult to stand up," he said automatically. He couldn't help the little nervous laugh that bubbled from his lips. He really hoped there was still time to be friends.

"It's fine," the redhead said. What was her name? Jenny? Ginny? Yes, Ginny. "What kind of cards are they?"

He smiled. She couldn't be all that bad if she was being so polite. "Duel monsters. It's a really fun game, and it's really popular in Japan. All of my friends play it," he said. He didn't know why he had bothered to include that last remark.

Hermione blinked blankly at him for a moment but Ginny didn't seem to notice that lapse in Hermione's focus like Ryou had. "That sounds fun," Ginny said. "C'mon, it's time for dinner. My mum's an amazing cook."

Ryou's smile slipped for a moment. "Dinner?" He couldn't remember the last time someone had fixed him dinner. He'd been cooking his own meals for years. And he was starving. He could hear his stomach growling slightly at the word, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since his meager breakfast this morning. He hadn't wanted to be an imposition, so he hadn't even finished the food he'd picked up. Ginny giggled at him, and he stared at her.

Was she really so comfortable around him already? Did she really not think he was odd? She was being so nice. Her words were genuinely kind and her eyes had none of the suspicious glint he had been looking for. There was hope.

Bakura appeared beside Ryou again, translucent enough that only Ryou could see him. /Better make sure they don't poison you, hikari!/ Bakura teased, regarding to Ryou's slight distrust.

Ryou glared at him as quickly as he could, not wanting the others to think him strange, and started to make his way back towards the stairs. He stopped. "Thank you," he whispered, looking at both Ginny and Hermione.

"For what?" Hermione asked him, looking curious.

"For being so nice to me, even though I know you don't like me."

"Why would you think we don't like you?" Hermione asked, looking thoroughly startled.

Ryou only smiled sadly at her. "I can see it in your eyes. You don't trust me. But it's okay. You don't know me very well, so I guess it's only natural."

He saw the conflict in her eyes. /Wow, hikari. That was pretty damn devious. Are you seriously making her feel guilty for not liking you? That's something _I'd_ do. Nice job, yadonushi!/

Ryou resisted glaring at his yami again. /_I'm not trying to make her feel guilty, I'm just being honest_/

Hermione's cheeks hinted pink in embarrassment.

"New kid!" the twins suddenly yelled, startling all three of them with their unexpected arrival. Ryou flinched in surprise.

"Hello," he said quietly, trying to ignore Bakura's laughter. The great thief king had heard them coming and was now thoroughly amused that Ryou hadn't.

"Idiots," Ginny muttered. "Ignore them. They're mostly harmless, but they can be pretty annoying." Ryou offered her a smile.

"Not true," Fred said.

"We're never annoying!" George replied. "Isn't that right, Fred?"

"Fred? But I'm George. You're Fred."

"No, I'm pretty sure I'm George and you're Fred," he said.

Ryou blinked at them, eyes flickering between the two. He was officially confused.

"You two," Hermione sighed, shaking her head and starting down the stairs. Ginny followed without a word, and, not wanting to be left alone with the twins who were already in the process of giving him a headache, Ryou followed too.

"We've got it! He's Gred and I'm Forge!" he heard from the landing, the last thing as he followed the girls to the kitchen.

"Ryou," Ginny said. Ryou paused at the doorway to the dining room, about to go in but waiting. "Ryou..." Her tone was deep and considering, as if trying to place something. Her eyes suddenly brightened. "Ryou!"

"Yes?" he asked, suddenly slightly concerned as he heard his name for the third time. Ginny had been silent all the way down the stairs, but now she spoke.

She snapped her fingers. "I just realized why your name was so familiar. Come here," she said, grabbing Ryou's wrist and dragging him away from the doorway. Hermione followed behind as they were led to the drawing room.

Ryou looked around in wonder as he took in the massive tapestry that covered the wall. The family tree was positively massive, filling the entire wall easily with names that stretched back at least 8 generations, if not more. The way the vines connecting each person wound around each other made it difficult to tell just how far it stretched backward.

Ginny moved with purpose to a spot on the wall, finger finding the name with only a little bit of difficulty. 'Ryou Bakura'. Above the name, there was a deep black scorch mark that completely obliterated where his picture should have been, based off the other portions of the tree. His parents names were written in the same elegant script, but the pictures were likewise burned off. His sister wasn't even listed.

Ryou's fingers trailed lightly along the wall, feeling the crumbling back material under the soft pads of his fingertips. "What is this?" he asked, confused. "Why is my name... on the wall?" The roaming eyes followed the lines back up a little, and saw the way they connected to Malfoy. Draco's name was listed, but the picture still remained unscathed on the tapestry beneath that of his parents.

"You're a pure-blood?" Hermione asked, shocked.

"There you are, you three," a voice said. Ryou turned and saw the shaggy-haired man from the meeting standing in the doorway of the drawing room. "Molly was wondering where you had gotten off to. I should have known you'd be in here, Ryou."

"Why is that?" he asked, his tone slightly guarded.

Sirius only grinned at him and walked into the room. "I see you've found the Black family tree. Your name's scorched off like mine, isn't it? Yes, I thought so," he said, peering down at the black mark.

"Like... yours?" Ryou asked carefully.

Sirius's finger pointed to another of the black smudges on the wall, one a little closer to the center of the tapestry. "Yes, my dear old mother burned my name off after I ran away from home. Best decision I ever made," he said lightly.

"Why isn't my sister on the wall?"

"I think you'll find ours isn't generally a very tolerant family. She was a squib, wasn't she? No magic?"

Ryou nodded.

"Probably why she wasn't put up here. Your parents got blasted off when they became blood-traitors, that's someone who doesn't follow pure-blood policies, and a load of crock if I ever heard 'em, and I bet that's when yours went too."

"So we're... family?"

"Extended, at any rate. You'd be my... first cousin twice removed? I think that's it. Now come on, I'm starving and Molly's got dinner almost ready," he said with a dry grin. "I'm sure the others can explain more later."

* * *

Dinner was phenomenal, easily one of the best meals he could recall eating in a long time. But then, that could be because he didn't have to fix it himself. Either way, it was also a very busy event. Ryou had never realized how much magic could be used around the house. Suddenly all of those long hours slaving over a hot stove and scrubbing the floors till his fingers were raw (Ryou enjoyed a clean house) seemed like a monumental waste of time.

Spoons had been magicked to stir massive cauldrons of soup, knives sliced away at vegetables at a preternatural speed, and plates floated through the open door between the kitchen and dining room to settle in each place setting.

"Fred, George, just carry them!" the woman orchestrating the event had called, reminding Ryou again that not everything had to be about the magic. A set of elegantly wrought tableware chose that particular moment to come flying into the room, the set of redheaded twins following them in with their wands held aloft.

The flatware clattered to sit on either side of every plate, but rather than lay horizontally, several of the pieces chose to bury themselves deep in the burnished, antique wood of the table. Ryou's Bakura-taught reflexes were all that saved him from having to part his pinky finger permanently. But Ryou didn't really mind. He was, to put a 'punny' spin on it, thoroughly enchanted with magic.

There was one person named Tonks that he was fascinated with for the better part of the meal. As it turned out, she was another of his relatives, another of his cousins on his mother's side, and she was what was called a 'metamorphmagus'. That meant she had the ability to shift her features into something completely different at will. Changing her hair color during the meeting had only been the beginning- she could also shift her entire facial structure into something entirely new with apparent ease.

She was dinner entertainment for both Ginny and Ryou, and it was comforting to realize that while some of the aurors, and Ryou was learning their names slowly but steadily, distrusted him because of what he had said about Bakura, others didn't mind at all. He was treated like a regular person by many of them.

The gnarled man named Mad-Eye Moody had even complimented Ryou (he was pretty sure) when he had been leery at first of his food. He had sniffed at it, mostly because Bakura had been teasing him about poison for some reason ever since the incident on the stairs, and Moody had noticed, saying, "See, Bakura here is careful. He knows better than to just take someone's word for something. You'd be smart to take a page from his book," to the other teenagers. Ryou had flushed in embarrassment.

Mrs. Weasley had also been very nice, even saying he looked too thin and needed to "eat up!", chiding him until he finished seconds of the admittedly delicious food. He had thanked her profusely for preparing such a tasty meal, proclaiming it the best he could recall eating in a long time. It had been Mrs. Weasley's turn to be embarrassed then.

Sirius, his other cousin, was an interesting character, but not so much as the Weasley twins. They caused their mother quite bit bit of grief, whipping their wands out for every little thing. They told him all about a joke shop the planned on opening (only out of earshot of their mother). When he asked where they were planning on getting the money to fund such a big venture, they only grinned at him and mentioned slyly that they had a private investor who had already given them a small sum of money.

After one of them sprouted a nosebleed during dinner, and Ryou had seen one of them pour a small amount of powder in their drink only moments before, he resolved to watch out for anything they gave him. They looked like pranksters, and he really didn't want to end up on the wrong side of their pranks.

After dinner, however, Ryou got a firsthand look at just one of the people who didn't fully trust him. Lupin was already a suspicious character, but Ryou couldn't figure out just why he felt that. There was nothing outward to make him think that there was something up with him, but it was more of a compilation of intuition and suspicion. Something about Lupin struck Ryou as odd. Apparently, the feeling was mutual. The man had said as much.

After Ryou had helped clean up, something he had insisted on doing since he hadn't done a thing to help with dinner and he didn't want to be a burden on the others, Lupin had taken him aside.

"I know you never asked for any of this, but I don't trust you like Dumbledore does," he said outright to Ryou, not leaving any room to beat around the bush. "I want you to know that even though you're working with us now, we'll be keeping as much an eye on you as we do on Harry. We're watching out for him like you will be. No funny business."

Ryou only offered a solemn nod in response. Lupin's expression softened subtly.

"Now, you seem like a good kid. You're just trying to get by like the rest of us. These are hard times to grow up in, and cursed objects like yours are becoming more and more common. We're going to give you a chance to help out, and that means giving you the benefit of the doubt. Are you willing to work with us?" he asked a little more softly. "We can't trust you fully, not yet, not with the soul you're stuck with, but we can help out however we can."

Ryou smiled. "That sounds fine. I completely understand. Like I said, I'd love to help if it's possible. I'm sick of being useless when important things are happening."

"You talk like you've been in situations like this before," Lupin said.

Ryou sighed at him. "In a way, but never quite like this, though..."

"Either way, I want you to know that Harry is our main priority. If something happens to him, it's on you, which is why you'll be with us for another week. We'll be putting you through a crash-course in magic to catch you at least up to where you need to be. Severus says the soul in your horcrux is very powerful, so the hope is that you'll be able to take advantage of that power and use it to help catch up. You'll need to work hard for that to happen."

"I understand. Will you be teaching me?" he asked.

"Without a wand, there isn't much you can do just yet. Someone will take you to get your wand tomorrow. Until then, Mad-Eye is in charge of educating you on wand safety," Lupin said. "After that, I advise you to ask Hermione if you can borrow the books 'Magical Theory' and 'A History of Magic'. You are to read as much of them as you can."

"Yes, sir," Ryou said dutifully, appearing for all intents and purposes levelheaded and capable. Inside he was positively giddy. /_Bakura! I'm getting a wand!_/ he gushed.

/Yes, I heard/ Bakura said, sounding almost amused at how childish his hikari was behaving. /Do you even realize what's really happening?/

Ryou paused. /_What do you mean?_/ he said suspiciously.

/I mean that they're making you a soldier so you can protect the Harry kid, which, by the way, is hilarious. You're no soldier/ Bakura said, snickering. Ryou pouted. /I can't believe they're trying to use us. How stupid/

/_Is that any better than Voldemort? I'm pretty sure he wanted to use us, too. At least these are the good guys_/

/Because that's so much consolation for me/ Bakura said sarcastically.

/_Yeah, well, whatever Bakura_/ Ryou simpered. /_It wouldn't kill you to be good for once_/

/Yes it would, and you know it/

* * *

Ryou massaged his temples. If he didn't get this headache to go away, he had a nasty feeling his head would explode.

/No one's head ever exploded from a headache/ Bakura deadpanned to the boy who was now flopping backward onto his new bed. Ryou couldn't even muster up enough willpower to contort his facial features into a grimace.

/_I guess no one's ever had to sit through Professor Moody's lectures before. I've never heard the words 'constant vigilance' used so much before in my life_/

/Actually, once you really pay attention to him, he's kinda interesting. His eye is fascinating, and there were some real nuggets of wisdom in all that blather. Most of it I already knew, but some of it was new/

Ryou sighed. /_You would like him. He's paranoid enough to make you look downright sane_/

/It doesn't take much, hikari. It doesn't take much/

/_Does every wizard get this talk before they get their wand or am I just special?_/

/I don't know, but now that I think about it, I think I saw a bit of a smirk on Loopy's face when he said you're getting a lecture from Mad-Eye. I think he knew this would happen/

/_Or maybe you're as paranoid as Professor Moody_/

Needless to say, Ryou had been through hell listening to Moody. It wasn't that the man was boring, more that he immediately jumped to the worst case scenario. 'Don't put your wand in your back pocket, you'll blow your buttocks off', 'Don't forget where you left your wand, someone could steal it', 'Don't wash your wand in the laundry machine, they're dry-clean only'. Okay, well, maybe he didn't mention that last one, but Ryou had a feeling it counted in there somewhere, too.

Bakura's name for it was 'bat-shit insane', but Ryou was a little more charitable than that. He dropped it at pessimistic and left it alone. But still, he was probably one of the coolest men he'd ever met. He told several anecdotes over the course of the lecture and many of them had been riveting to the point where Ryou had been somewhat disappointed at their conclusion. But he still had a headache.

The lecture had been _long_. He only hoped Hermione wasn't asleep yet; he hadn't gotten the book yet and he wanted to do some reading tonight. He loved reading, so finally having some new material, and material about magic no less, was an exciting prospect for him.

/_Do you think they'd have any aspirin?_/

Bakura sighed. /Just do what I used to do when I was alive. There's a little pressure point on the skin between your thumb and forefinger. Pinch it right there on the webbing with your thumb on the bottom and push your finger in towards the bone, yes, just like that/ he advised, guiding Ryou's fingers into the right position. /Your headache will probably be gone in a minute/

Ryou did as he was told, massaging the flesh of his left hand gently. The pressure that was pounding a violent tattoo against his temple faded slowly, seceding into a gentle throb that hurt much less than before. Gradually it disappeared completely. It had worked perfectly.

/_Thanks, 'Kura_/ he said in a mildly surprised tone, a smile building slowly on his face.

Bakura grunted in assent. /Yeah, you're welcome. Now go get the book. I don't want you whining to me because she was already asleep and you couldn't get it from her/

Obediently, Ryou stood and slipped down the stairs, trying to stay silent as he skipped past the creaky fifth step. With a certain degree of success, he made his way down the hallway. One of the doors was cracked slightly open, and a sliver of golden light poured forth from it. Just inside, he could hear two female voices talking in low tones.

He rapped gently on the door, trying to keep his eyes from looking in the crack so as not to disturb their privacy. "Who is it?" Hermione called.

"Ryou. I wanted to see if I could borrow some books from you?" The end of the phrase curled up into a question.

The door was pushed open, and he saw Ginny sitting on her bed. Hermione was standing, her fingertips up against the ancient wood of the door. "What books do you need?" she asked, sounding slightly surprised by his question.

"I was told to ask you for..." he trailed off, wracking his brains for the names of the tomes. "'Magical Theory' and 'A History of Magic'. That's them. I promise I'll take good care of them," he added, noting the look on her face. She was obviously someone who took great pride in books. Ryou could respect that.

She seemed doubtful. "Well... I guess... Wait, did Professor Lupin ask you to borrow them?" He nodded. Hermione glanced back momentarily at Ginny and then back at Ryou. "Alright, I can let you borrow them. Come on in," she said, beckoning him beyond the threshold of the door frame.

She knelt down beside a massive steamer trunk that sat at the foot of the bed. Her arms stretched impossibly far into the case. Though the trunk looked like it was only about a foot and a half wide, she was buried up to her shoulders, digging. It was bigger on the inside. Magic.

Bakura seemed as interested as Ryou.

/Just think of all the valuables you could hide inside, with no one the wiser!/ Bakura chuckled.

Before Ryou could respond, Hermione stood, several books in her arms. "Here you go," she said, handing them to him.

"But there's three."

An amused smile quirked at the corner of her lips. "I'm also loaning you 'Hogwarts, a History'. It's really good, but I expect it back like the others," she said, her tone slipping into the epitome of no-nonsense at the expectation.

Ryou gave her a thankful smile in return. "Thank you, Hermione," he said.

"No problem. Goodnight, Ryou."

"Goodnight, Ryou!" Ginny called, waving from where she sat, her legs twisted into a pretzel shape on her bed. Maybe they were finally seeing that he wasn't all bad.

"Goodnight, ladies," he said quietly. His smile grew very sad as he turned. It was nice to finally befriend them, if only a little.

* * *

**Not sure how Ginny ended up Ryou's friend, but I think I'm gonna roll with it. I also never expected to use the POV of anyone but Ryou, but I actually kind of liked writing Hermione POV. It's helping to flesh out her character and I like to think it adds another layer to the story, which is part of why it was so long. Not a big fan of Harry POV but I may add more of that too.**

**Did you like Hermione POV? Harry POV? Or do you like Ryou POV best? And Ginny. Good? Bad? Review and let me know! **


	6. Chapter 6

**With this chapter, I officially take three steps closer to Hogwarts. Count 'em, three. Wand, bone, and Harry. Excited?**

**Ah, but unfortunately, it needs to be said that this may not be updated as regularly anymore. August 15th marks the beginning of classes again, and I've decided I'm going to at least try and focus on them (as opposed to last year, of which I spent most of with my nose buried in my writing notebook). Let's see how long that will last, eh? I've got the next chapter somewhat written, so there's a chance that I'll have that one out on time. It's a dozy too (does anyone still say that? Just me?). I like to think it's pretty funny. Of course, I've got a twisted sense of humor that no one ever gets, so...**

* * *

Morning hit Ryou like a ton of bricks, and not in the good way. Not that there necessarily was a good way to get hit by a ton of bricks, but still. Waking up to the sounds of Mrs. Weasley bustling her way down the hall and calling 'wake up!' as she went probably would have been a much easier experience if not for everything that had happened over the last 36 hours, not to mention the fact that he had been up late reading.

On top of his fatigue and Bakura's general antics, he had stayed up late enough to read five of William Slinkhard's twelve chapters of Magical Theory. Now his eyelids were heavy with the rheumy crust of exhaustion and the violet bags under his eyes had bags of their own. Ra, but did he look terrible! His arms ached with every little motion they made, making yesterday's occasional twinge from overexertion seem like a walk in the park.

Brown eyes glittered dully in the morning light as he dressed in clothes from his as-of-yet still packed suitcase. He wasn't sure how long he would be here, but based off the way things had been lately, he wasn't sure he wanted to get too comfortable here just yet.

The last thing he put on was the millennium ring, tucked under his blue button-up shirt, before he headed down to breakfast. Bakura warned him to skirt the hideous troll-leg umbrella stand and he did so wordlessly, not bothering to even ask why. He was bone tired.

He was the first one down, it looked like, so he sat down at the table with the others in the Order. A few were just checking in, and others were eating breakfast. Mrs Weasley swooped in only seconds after he sat down and gave him his own plate of french toast.

"Hurry up and eat, dear," she told him. "As soon as Alastor returns, you'll be going to get your wand." Ryou let out a silent cheer as he eagerly tucked in, eating until Moody's arrival.

The chosen method of transportation? What had to have been the worst bus he'd ever ridden on. It got them to their destination quickly, but it was a nightmare of a ride. Apparently there was a place in London to buy wands, and wizards could get there on the knight bus. Wouldn't you believe it?

Ryou almost didn't, especially when they pulled up to a seedy-looking dive of a pub rather than a shop. Needless to say, he was taken aback. He knew that wizards were almost as much a secret as the magic of the millennium items, but were wands black market material? This thought only occurred to Ryou because of Bakura, of course, who had made a rather snide remark about how shady a place this looked.

All his fears, however, were soon alleviated upon entry into the back room, where Moody tapped a specific sequence of blocks that Bakura quickly committed to memory on the off chance this password of sorts would be useful in the future. Ryou, on the other hand, payed the order no mind as bricks slid back from their original places, forming an elaborate arch that stretched high above his head.

Like a portal to some new dimension, on the other side of the wall was a strange new world that, if Ryou was being fully honest, actually did look like the exact sort of place one would find a wand, not to mention all of the kitschy magic things that looked very much like Monster World spellcaster equipment. It was like walking backwards in time, stepping into a magical new place where anything could happen.

/Did you expect anything different?/ Bakura chuckled. Ryou ignored him in favor of looking around. Men and women streamed past them as if their doorway was nothing unusual, all of them wearing strange cloaks that billowed out behind them as they passed some of the most singularly curious shops Ryou had ever seen. His eyes were wide as he took all this in with a sharp intake of air.

"Don't get too excited," Moody grumbled. "We're just here for your wand and robes. Your list hasn't arrived yet, so we aren't getting your books and things until they do."

"That's fine, I wasn't looking forward to any major shopping anyway," Bakura said with a smirk, startling Ryou with his sudden appearance. Moody looked unruffled, as if he had been expecting the spirit to show up at some point or another.

"No funny business," he growled. "Got it? I've got my eye on you."

Bakura only grinned impishly, throwing an arm possessively around his light. "I'll try," he chuckled, leering slightly. Moody harrumphed. Ryou only sighed. He had no clue why Bakura was out and about now of all times. Was it boredom? Bakura was prone to fits of boredom, and was hell when he wasn't entertained to the fullest. His dark was a real pain in the ass sometimes.

Right now, in fact, Bakura was apparently making it his personal mission to pick the pocket of every third person he encountered. The large gold coins were his target, as they seemed to be the most valuable form of currency used here. He could tell this much just by looking around. Bakura had always been good at noticing things like this. Then there was the fact that Bakura was striding confidently in front of Ryou and relegating Moody to bringing up the rear, which meant that the paranoid man saw every piece of gold that Bakura pocketed. He was doing it on purpose.

It didn't escape Bakura's notice that Moody made no move to stop him. For a yami like Bakura, who felt like causing even a small amount of mayhem, this just wouldn't do. /Hikari, Crazy-Eye back there is being boring. Go find out why/ Ryou, baffled, offered Bakura's back a resigned glare before he obediently slowed his pace.

Once he was even with Moody, he asked, "Why aren't you doing anything to stop him?" with a hint of genuine curiosity. It was strange. He mentally classified the Order as the good guys. Bakura was being bad, so why weren't they stopping him? Sure, not even Ryou could make Bakura behave, but still, they could try. Moody wasn't doing a thing, other than watching with a frown on his scarred face.

Moody scowled at Bakura. "It'd be pointless to try right now, right? He's not doing much. If he's as bad as Dumbledore led us to believe, this is petty. Be better not to piss him off just yet, we still need him on our side. But don't think any less of me, boy. I've got my eyes peeled." As if to prove this, the electric blue eye swiveled in its socket until it bored into Bakura's crimson over-the-shoulder leer. "He sets a toe out of line and I won't hesitate to destroy him, even if it kills me. Last thing we need is two dark wizards to fight against," he said with a dark scowl, as if he'd like nothing better than to obliterate Bakura this very moment.

Ryou glared at Bakura, who was obviously baiting Moody. Bakura's lips stretched into a smirk. "Up here with me, hikari," he said, patting his hip as if summoning a dog. The glare intensified, and he crossed his arms petulantly as he joined his yami.

"What is it?" Ryou asked cautiously.

Bakura's grin slipped into something that almost passed for innocence. "Oh, nothing at all," he said, his tone intentionally sounding like he knew more than he was letting on. "I just thought you'd like some money to pay for your new wand is all." Ryou felt coins spill into his left pocket at the same time as the words reached his ears. Bakura hand de-materialized quicker than it slipped out of Ryou's pocket. His yami vanished back into his soul room instantaneously.

Bakura didn't say a word as they entered a store called Madam Malkin's so Ryou could be measured and a set of robes tailored to him. Wizards even had their own tailors. Ryou was positively awestruck.

* * *

The wand shop. No three words could hold Ryou more in their thrall in that moment the those did. But nothing prepared Ryou for what was about to happen as he entered the shop, Moody lurking in the corner.

The shop keeper slid into sight on a ladder with wheels attached to the bottom so it could roll along walls, appearing the moment Ryou stepped into the shop. Grey hair flew wildly about his head like a halo and glimmered in the dusky glow of lamps, and his silvery eyes shone like lustrous twin moons. He dismounted the ladder as Ryou gazed around in wonder.

Faint sunlight gleamed through the grimy windows, peaking out around boxes ancient and towering. The rectangular shapes seemed stacked so haphazardly as to be ready to tip over at any given moment, but for now they seemed to hold. Ryou had a sinking hope they didn't fall while he was here, for fear of an avalanche. Dust motes swirled through the air, sometimes visible and sometimes not, completely dependant on how the light struck them. The air smelled almost sweet, like maple and pine and other such woods that flavored the air with their delicate, full-bodied aroma.

Ryou could hardly contain his excitement, regardless of how off putting the strange man, who introduced himself as Ollivander, seemed. Regardless of what this place looked like, regardless off his vague worries about Bakura stealing something, he couldn't deny that he very much wanted one of these wands. It was a looming desire he couldn't control, worse even than the time he had found himself in a new bakery that had just opened up down the street and he saw the display of cream puffs.

"Well, good afternoon Mr. Bakura! I've been expecting you," Ollivander said brightly. Ryou tilted his head, stunned and confused, but the wandmaker only laughed at him. "I had the pleasure of fitting both your mother and father with wands. I have to say, you seem a bit late to be getting your first wand, Mr. Bakura," he chuckled softly.

"Erm, yeah," Ryou replied, smiling a little bit.

"Well, let's just see what sort of wand takes a liking to you, then, shall we?" Mr. Ollivander chimed, sweeping around the room with a steady grace as he perused the boxes.

"What do you mean likes me?" Ryou asked.

Mr. Ollivander did not look back, only continued to fill his arms with choice boxes from around the room. "The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Bakura," he said when he finally returned to the small table.

He set the boxes down and slid one out from near the bottom of the pile. Boxes fell to fill its place with a soft 'thump'. A simple grey box was opened, and a narrow, tapered stick of a pale beige was drawn out.

"Now, let's see how this one works. Rowan and Unicorn Hair, extra springy. Said to provide protection against malevolent beings, and the same sort of wand that chose your father. How about that?" he asked, handing the stick to Ryou. He took it gently and stared at it. "Go ahead, give it a wave!"

He flicked his wrist slightly and was shocked to see the wand go flying out of his fingers, landing on the other side of the room. Oh, the irony, Ryou mused internally.

/Do it again!/ Bakura cried excitedly, feeling the same rush of magic through his fingertips as Ryou.

"Is that supposed to happen?" he asked, worried.

"It's perfectly alright, Mr. Bakura. Why don't you try this one? Hazel and Dragon Heartstring, same as your mother. Perhaps it will work better," the wandmaker suggested, drawing another wand from yet another box. Ryou gave a tentative wave, keeping a little better hold on it, but it didn't try to wrestle itself from his grasp. Instead, the tip erupted in a cascade of violet flames that sputtered and gave off strange green sparks.

He put it down immediately, and it extinguished itself the moment it ceased to touch his fingers. That didn't feel right at all. It was replaced quickly by another, one made from cherry wood, that worked no better than either the willow, the maple, or any of the others. The worst, though, had to be the hawthorn wand that caused one of the lamps to explode after he waved it.

/You should get that one/ Bakura suggested, grinning wryly at the show.

/I don't think so/ Ryou answered doubtfully. /There has to be one that works.../

Finally, as the mounting pile of discarded wands began reaching frightening proportions, Ollivander found a box that without a doubt one of the oldest boxes in there, spiderwebbed by white cracks in the grey-toned box. Dust wheezed out as the lid was lifted, and Ryou found himself inexplicably drawn to the strange, silvery wand inside.

"Silver lime with a core of runespoor and ashwinder, 11 1/2 inches long, extremely thin," Ollivander announced.

He felt Bakura leave to take a place beside him, still invisible, to watch contentedly. It was taking a long time to find the right wand, and Bakura had already started getting bored again. It seemed not even exploding lamps could keep the somewhat fickle spirit entertained for long. He watched Ryou with a smirk on his face as the boy picked up the smooth wand, free of any and all decorations, and gave it a tiny wave.

A mist of gold enshrouded him, and tendrils of white and black wove their way through the fog, casting dramatic shadows on his face where they drifted. A feeling of pure joy drifted through both of them, but primarily surged through Ryou. Bakura only felt the faint vestiges of what Ryou felt, the lightheartedness so strong as to drift over the mind link itself.

It was slow to fade, siphoning off into the air as the golden glitter diffused. The joy lingered. It had buried itself in a little pit in his heart, and Ryou clung to its warmth eagerly.

"Why, boy, your eyes seemed to have changed color!" Mr. Ollivander remarked.

"What are you talking about?" Ryou queried in response.

"When you entered, your eyes were as brown as my darkest mahogany wands, but now they are an exact chartruese!"

Ryou's searching fingers met with one of his eyes in a subconscious motion, and he tried to keep from looking at Bakura. "But my eyes aren't brown," he said, confused. "They've always been green."

"Ah, but my boy, they were definitely brown, and now they are not! Explain that!" he said, wagging a finger at him.

"Trick of the light, probably," Moody growled, startling Ryou, who had forgotten the auror's presence over the course of his wand escapade.

Ollivander's gaze became very thoughtful for a moment. After a second of silent contemplation, he smiled again. "Highly likely. That wand, however, is a very strange one. My grandfather made that one using a twin core of runespoor fang and ashwinder ash, two cores I would never use in conjunction with each other due to their inherently different natures. Runespoor is good for combating dark magic whereas ashwinder is usually the source of dark magic."

"Is that a bad thing?" Ryou asked.

"Not necessarily. But like I said, it is very odd. The choice of wood is the same. Silver lime is often used for medicinal purposes, yet its nectar is poison and kills anything that attempts to pollinate it. Often, only those who peruse strange areas of study such as arcane branches of divination or potions use its powers. Very unusual. At any rate, that will be seven galleons, Mr. Bakura!"

Bakura grinned as Ryou sheepishly dug some of the gold coins out of his pocket before Moody could make a move. "These, right?" he asked, holding up the fat coin. Ollivander's answer was a nod, and Ryou handed over seven of them with a smile on his face. A wand! He finally had a real wand!

/_Hey Bakura, don't you need a wand, too?_/

/What do I need a wand for? I've got all the magic I need in the ring. If I need a wand, I'll just use yours. We share a soul. I see no reason for it to not work for me, too/

"Come on, boy. We have to pick up your robes now and head back," Moody said, checking a pocket watch. "It's getting late."

"Okay," Ryou chirped, a skip in his step.

* * *

They took the knight bus back to Grimmauld Place, Ryou's new wand stowed in his pocket with the remainder of the jingly gold coins. The robes, folded and carried in Ryou's arms, hadn't cost much, and Moody hadn't needed to spend a sickle on anything. Ryou had been able to cover all of the expenses with more than a little left over. He still had more than 20 of the gold pieces stowed away, not counting the small fortune held in reserve in the shadow realm, protected by Diabound.

As they had made their way back to the pub, Bakura had seen Gringotts. Bakura, being Bakura, likened the words engraved on the silver doors to a challenge. And so, Bakura had slipped down into the vaults in spirit form, stashed away some of the gold, and returned before Ryou had made it back to the muggle world. For a bank as imposing as this one was supposed to be, it certainly didn't have that great of security. Bakura had spent the entire bus ride back muttering about chained dragons and how silly they were.

Ryou almost laughed at how disgruntled Bakura was. Obviously his thieving excursion had been less than what he had planned on. Maybe that would teach Bakura that there was no real sense of fulfillment from stealing from people. Bakura, however, was in denial.

Upon his return, Moody had immediately set upon him a pile of work enough to keep him busy all afternoon. Excited as he was, he got started right away. The book work was slightly tedious, but practicing spells with Tonks was fun. She was the only member who wasn't too busy to help him, and she actually made a fairly good teacher. Even if the subject matter hadn't been something as fascinating as magic, he probably still would have enjoyed the lesson simply because she found a way to make it enjoyable.

He felt a little bad that the others were busy cleaning, but he ended up working every bit as hard as the others at his lessons trying to learn all that he could so that he didn't feel that guilty. He went to bed every night as if he hadn't slept in days, waking still feeling sleepy.

Life at Grimmauld Place quickly slipped into a routine for him. Every morning he'd wake himself up early, muttering "lumos" under his breath until his wand was lit bright enough to illuminate his Magical History book. It was actually relatively interesting, and even Bakura was interested in the stories it told about ancient magical wars.

Then, once Mrs. Weasley did her usual wake-up call around seven, he would rise from bed and dress, descending down the stairs for breakfast. Usually he would chat with anyone who came down. Many of the aurors were curious about his progress, especially the ones in charge of educating him. Even the ones that distrusted him acted civil at the very least.

Except for Snape. About three days into this, Snape arrived for his duty in catching Ryou up to at least the level he'd need to be in order to make it through classes. Snape was a stickler, that much was certain. He didn't seem like the type to be kind to just anyone, and even Hermione, Ginny, and Ron disliked him. Dislike wasn't a strong enough word. They hated Snape. Ryou didn't get it, since Snape was just being a little hard on him. He wasn't exactly as unnecessarily cruel as they said he'd be.

Still, despite Snape's initially cold demeanor, he found he enjoyed potions. It was the same as cooking, really, and it didn't take him long to memorize the required ingredients for many of the potions. It also helped that Bakura knew a thing or two about the ingredients used, and advised him on how better to use them. It only took a day to prove he was more than proficient in whipping up even the remarkably difficult Draught of Peace. Snape acted a little less frigid after that, to Ryou's pleasure.

And then, there were Ryou's nightly study sessions with Hermione. As it turned out, the girl was quite brainy and really good at what she did. He wasn't fully sure what she thought of him yet, but her respect for him rose slightly when he returned the books he had borrowed in a timely manner, only a few days after he had borrowed them.

The sessions usually consisted of him and Hermione going over Ryou's lessons from earlier with the teachers. Hermione actually enjoyed studying, or at least was so determined to get excellent grades that she didn't mind studying during any available opportunity. Actually, it had been her to offer up her services to Ryou. He wondered if she was doing it more for herself than to help him, wanting to use the lessons he'd been given as a way to quiz herself.

Either way, she became one of Ryou's biggest assets in learning magic. Not only did she help him master many of the necessary spells, she also loaned him helpful books whenever he wanted or needed them. As often as not, the books were for his own personal enjoyment, not just for catching up.

But it didn't take long for Bakura to decide that things were becoming just a little too routine. It also hadn't taken long to figure out that Bakura had only left the confines of his soul room in the first place to stretch his legs. Ever since then, he'd been trapped inside of Ryou's head. Due to Ryou's promise, Bakura had been forbidden from skulking around the house while visible like he normally would have. He'd been forced to settle for staying invisible.

And of course, Bakura had business he still wanted to take care of. It had been quite long enough. Tonight was a week to the day that Bakura had arrived in England. He wasn't yet finished with his plan. So when night fell, Bakura made his move.

Rather than allowing Ryou time to read this evening, he instead greeted his light by pushing him onto the bed and brandishing a stick of chalk with a smirk on his face. The only source of light in the room was a tall, wax white candle that sat on his bedside table, slowly melting into a pool of ivory lava around the tapered stick.

"Bakura? What are you doing?" Ryou asked, shocked.

His yami kicked clear an area of the floor in answer before he settled into his task. He drew a circle around two feet in diameter with the chalk, using quick, deft strokes to coat the floor in lines of fine powder that remained perfectly un-smudged. He filled it in with a five point star, adorning every point with a strange symbol, a unique rune that looked distinctly Egyptian in origin. A squat, black candle was placed on top of each symbol.

"Seriously, what exactly are you doing?" Ryou pressed. He was ignored.

A match was used to light each of the fat candles. The main candle, the one on the tiny table, was extinguished by a gentle puff of air from Bakura's chest, and the room grew decidedly darker, taking on an esoteric purple cast.

The bright yellow flame from the tall candle had been replaced by five tiny pinpricks of wavering violet lights, flickering on their dark-tapered wicks. This gave Bakura a ghostly air, and Ryou drew his knees to his chest in rapt attention, eyes never leaving Bakura.

The yami darted around the room in search of something he found in mere moments: the emerald necklace, the one Ryou had discovered from Egypt. Bakura drew it quickly from its hidden spot with it draped along his bone-like fingers and wrapped around his wrist.

Ryou had never liked that necklace. It gave him a bad feeling, not to mention that being strung together by an ancient sinew of muscle stripped from some monstrous serpent rather than a gold chain put Ryou off. And he hated snakes. Loathed them, in fact. It also didn't help that over the course of a year, more and more of the emeralds had been appearing over time. While it was true that Ryou's blackouts were becoming farer and fewer, he had always noticed more jewels after each of those uncommon experiences.

These things culminated to a distaste of the piece of jewelry that only grew when Bakura took the snake-head emerald stone out of its hiding place and threaded it onto the sinew like a bead. The fleshy line was strung through the back of the neck and out through the snake's mouth where it rested on the jaws between two of the massive, faintly glistening fangs. It didn't look like a necklace anymore.

The string of emeralds met the new 'bone' and shone with a brilliant inner light that hadn't been there before. The pieces seemed to connect with each other, locking together with the new inclusion in such a way that it formed a narrow, anfractuous body identical to the serpentine form that would match the snakehead jewel ideal.

Uraeus.

The name leapt to the forefront of Ryou's mind, though he could swear he had never heard the word before in his life. He sat transfixed as Bakura laid the string on the center-most spot on the circle, positioned directly on top of the star's pentagonal center. A glittering gold eye gleamed at him, small as a crumb yet looking like a cat's eye marble from its socket in the gem's head. He couldn't look away.

The amethyst-tinted flames roared up high in tandem with the tempo of Bakura's voice, the sound of which had begun as rapidly as the pagan ritual the lurid yami had initiated only moments before. A chant similar to the one from days ago flowed easily through the air.

But this was a different sort of magic. It was darker, shadowed in evil. It was easily more frightening than before, than anything Ryou had done and seen over the last few days.

Clouds of billowing smoke rose from the little candles as Bakura's lips continued their frenzied dance. These clouds had a noxious, malodorous quality reminiscent of blood and sand and sulfur lingering within them. The stench burned at Ryou's nose. The light intensified, tinting violet mist a green the precise shade of fresh spring grass, the color of antifreeze and Ryou's wide eyes.

Ryou worried at his lip, chewing nervously as Bakura's silhouette continued its movements behind the gossamer fog. His lip broke and spilled a thin trickle of blood down his pale chin. He closed his eyes and buried his nose in the bedspread, inhaling the scent of fabric softener and what could only be described as Bakura's spicy-smelling dark aura in slow breaths, filtering the air of the pollutants that made his head swim and stars dance in his eyes.

Light continued to flicker against his eyelids, so searingly bright it hurt even to his closed eyes for those barest of moments that Bakura's shadow magic gave fuel to the strange purple fire. As with Bakura's voice fading into silence, the flames themselves faded slowly, ebbing back to the miniscule dots of light they had started as when they had been first lit. A poignant sound permeated the air with the clattering of dense crystal rattling together. There was a scritchy sound like a match being dragged against the tabletop and a whiff as a wick took the flame and cast a faint light through the room.

Ryou peeked out of the blankets, suddenly aware of a curl of dread inside of him. He brushed it away like one might a nagging fly and coughed, clearing a small amount of the smoke from before his face. It was too smoky to see in here, the violet smoke now nothing more than plain grey, and Ryou felt his way over to a window to try and dissipate some of it.

A soft breeze rolled in, carrying with it the fresh scent of dew drops lying iridescent with their brethren on the few trees planted by the streets, nature's own magical way of freshening everything up with that airy aroma. He left his head to dangle momentarily out the window, loving the feeling of the breeze on his scalp and neck like a cleansing bath.

"Ryou, get back in here," Bakura warned, doing something Ryou couldn't see from where he stood. With great reluctance he pulled his head back in and fanned some of the gases from the room with hands shaped like flat paddles to help get it moving. It quickly cleared enough for Ryou to see where Bakura stood, his back to the younger.

When Ryou walked around him, though, to see what he was doing, Ryou leapt back in revulsion, seeing a living, breathing serpent coiling itself into willing knots around Bakura's long white fingers. It shone with the same lustrous green as before, but now it was very much alive.

As if sensing the attention Ryou's thoughts now gave it, it stretched out to reach for Ryou, the lithe shape still weak enough that it struggled to support extending as much of its body over open space as it had. It blinked intelligently at him, batting eyes as golden a fiery yellow as when they had been motionless.

Ryou shied away from the malachite serpent's touch, yelping lightly in fear. It flicked its tongue antagonistically as if to taunt him.

"Hikari, stop being a coward and touch the Ra-damned snake" Bakura growled, unimpressed by Ryou's own 'intimidating growl'.

Ryou bit his lip again, still tasting a faint hint of copper, but reached out a tentative pointer finger to stroke the sinuous jade body. He could swear he saw the snake grin at him, the folds of scaled gemstone skin pulling back from the corners of the snake's jaw as his finger traced along the body, starting at top of the skull and trailing down its back.

The snake seemed content for the moment, its eyes closing slightly. A small, hesitant grin curled at the very edges of Ryou's lips, and he felt himself growing the barest hints of a smile. This wasn't so bad, he thought. He could handle this. Bakura whispered something quietly to the snake, so quiet it sounded like nothing more than faint hissing.

Ryou paid it no mind as he studied the snake's sparkling scales. As the serpent moved, they seemed to reflect more light than Ryou would have expected. It reared its head back slightly, and Ryou's finger curled to stroke the underside of the jaw. He didn't see the bite coming until it was too late.

He yelped and retracted his finger from the snake's reach to examine the wound, two glistening red pricks welling up on his porcelain skin. This was exactly why he didn't like snakes, they were so unpredictable and sneaky. Bakura makes him touch the snake and it bites him. It really didn't surprise Ryou in the least as he clutched his fingers close to his hand, glaring at the crystal serpent.

And you know what? Bakura had spoken to the snake. He'd probably told the thing to bite him. The way Bakura seemed only seconds from bursting into laughter made Ryou suppose he was right.

"Bakura, what did you do?" Ryou snapped, irritated.

His room was a mess, there was chalk all over the floor, smoke filled the room, and he'd been bitten by what he had thought was a necklace, but was really actually a living, breathing snake brought to life by Bakura. He had a right to be irritated. Although he wouldn't deny that the ritual was a little cool... No, no, he was angry with Bakura. Not impressed in the least. Not one bit.

"I did you a favor," Bakura sniffed. "The least you could do is thank me. And Uraeus, for that matter."

"Uraeus?"

"The snake."

Ryou furrowed his brows and glared at the snake. It chuckled at him. Wait, chuckled? Ryou did a double take, watching the snake giggle like a madman. Snakes couldn't laugh.

"Like him?" Bakura asked, sounding amused.

Ryou frowned. "He's laughing at me."

"Yes, I noticed. Just chat with him."

"But it's a snake," Ryou pointed out. "It can't talk."

Bakura sighed at him, stroking the snake slowly with his index finger. "I just turned a string of inanimate beads into a living snake more than capable of laughing, as you can see, and you're telling me that he can't talk... because he's a snake. That has to be the most ridiculous argument I've ever heard."

"Possssitively ridiculoussss," the snake echoed, flicking its tongue.

Ryou sat down quickly, not trusting his legs to keep him standing for much longer.

"Uraeus here helped me out back when I was still alive. Got my ass outta some pretty shitty situations down in the tombs. He's a good snake, see?" Bakura asked, gesturing to the way it coiled along his arm contentedly.

"Good snakes don't bite," Ryou said petulantly, glaring. His finger was still bleeding. He sucked lightly on it.

"Ah, but you see, that's the thing. He's a good snake _because_ he bit you! You can talk to him now. There's this whole snake language thing, it's kinda hard to explain, but most people don't know it. You know it 'cause he bit you. You can talk to the snake all you want, and no one will understand you. It's perfect."

"So your devil snake takes a chunk out of my finger and suddenly I can understand him?"

Bakura grinned. "Him and any other snake. Pretty cool, right?"

"You would like a snake that makes people bleed so it can talk to them," Ryou muttered.

"And you will too," Bakura said, wrapping the snake around Ryou's shoulders, much to his revulsion. "Uraeus is yours now. He saved my ass a couple times back when I was alive and now he's gonna do the same for you. I knew you'd do something stupid eventually and need help, and what you're doing now is pretty damn stupid. Ra only knows why you'd want to help that Harry kid when you haven't even met him..."

"It's because I'm a good person. I like to help people."

"Which is why you need Uraeus. Good people are gullible and stupid, and I can't have my hikari being gullible and stupid. That just isn't going to work. It gives me a bad name," Bakura said, pulling a face.

Ryou rolled his eyes, suppressing a shudder as the snake lowered itself from his shoulders to his left arm.

"Don't get sssnippy, light," the snake told him. Ryou threw Bakura a withering pout.

Bakura laughed. "Don't look at me, he'll do as he likes. You'll get used to him soon enough. Just watch him, he's dead useful. He killed an entire troop of the pharaoh's guards once, that's 20 men! Actually, now that I think about it, I can't wait 'till the pharaoh sees Uraeus again. It'll be hilarious."

The snake laughed right along with Bakura, as if sharing a fond memory. "That ssshhould be entertaining," he chuckled. "Where iss that no good Atemu?"

"Japan. We're pretty far away right now, in England. We'll see the pharaoh in a few months. It would have been sooner, but hikari over here had to go and promise to go to some school here."

"How boring. And here I wasss getting excccited about returning to thisss droll world. Ssssuch a pity."

Bakura and the snake chuckled again, and Ryou clutched his temples. "You know what? I'm going to bed," he announced, dressing in a pair of pajama pants and slipping under the covers. "Clean up your mess." Bakura laughed at Ryou's pout.

* * *

Ryou woke up late... for him. The moment he had cracked his eyes open to meet the dawn streaming into his window was when he heard Mrs. Weasley. He changed slowly. The room was passably clean, seeing as how all of the chalk was scrubbed from the floor and the candles were put away. No wax drips were left abandoned on the ancient, slightly moldering wood. It still smelled wretched, but the smoke was gone. If not for that stench, Ryou would have assumed it all to be a dream.

Bakura was smug in his soul room, and for a moment Ryou wondered why, until he remembered the snake and froze. There, wrapped around the headboard, was Uraeus. Unable to hold back his yelp, he landed on his butt on the floor. Uraeus snickered as he slid down to join Ryou. His body wove its way to Ryou, pausing about a foot away to rise up and blink a few times, as if insisting to be picked up.

"Come on, now. Bakura told me I wassssn't allowed out alone and I want to ssssee where we are," he hissed. Slowly, Ryou extended his hand to the snake, Bakura laughing his head off as the fingers quivered. He still didn't like snakes, and this one was no exception. Cool scales met pale flesh, and the snake wound its way around Ryou's arm.

Uraeus was more on the small side than anything, about a foot long at most, so it was nothing for him to curl up under Ryou's collar, almost completely out of sight.

"Let'sss go. I heard that thisss placcce hass good food. I would very much like ssssomething to eat."

/_You know, Bakura, Uraeus is really pushy_/

/You get used to it/ Bakura said with a chuckle.

He made his way down the stairs, but before Ryou could head to breakfast, he was pulled aside by Lupin.

"Don't forget, you'll be leaving soon, so you'll need to get your things packed up today."

"Where am I going?"

"You'll be spending the rest of your summer at Privet Drive."

* * *

The flower bed. It was genius. Harry, after being kicked out of the living room, off the stairs, and away from the air vent, had finally found a perfect hiding spot to watch the news without being disturbed by his aunt and uncle. He settled himself under the window sill, feeling the tickle of hydrangea leaves on his nose. Morning was slipping away, fading into noon with an easy breath of the summer breeze. He could hear everything playing out on the TV.

But as his lazy afternoon drew to close, he soon came to a dismal realization. There wasn't a hint of anything important on the news. By the time the newscasters reached a report on water skiing birds, Harry was sure that nothing important had happened. Of course. Nothing import would happen, would it?

Harry was irritated, and hunger did him no favors. He was starting to regret throwing out those boxes of Honeydukes chocolate Hermione and Ron had sent him two days ago for his birthday. They would have at least staved off the twinge in his stomach, maybe even helped fill in the pinched cheeks that only grew more sallow as time passed. Growing so quickly in a relatively short period of time and Aunt Petunia's family diet were doing him no favors.

A sharp sound like gunfire rent the sleepy silence. Wrenched from his musings, Harry sat up in a flash, inevitably hitting his head on the sill. He didn't know it yet, but his whole evening was about to go downhill from there.

* * *

**So I'm not going to lie here, I didn't come up with the snake thing completely. I read a fic somewhere with something similar in it, and I had decided I wanted to use it. If someone could tell me which fic it is, I'll give credit to that story so other people can read it too. I don't remember what it was called. All I know is that it was pretty good and it hasn't been updated in a long time.**

**The thing about that part though is that it seems forced in, mostly because it somewhat was. I had both the snake and wand bits written before I even posted the first chapter, so they didn't flow exactly as I intended. I really didn't change much on the snake bit at all. Actually, I only included it for three reasons- chapter filler, I had an idea for something important Uraeus could do later, and I figured he would be entertaining. **

**If you like sassy snakes that act like Bakura, he can be a character. If he's redundant, he can become a silly pet that does one useful thing much later. Which would you prefer? I love hearing everyone's thoughts on the chapter, so feel free to leave a review!**

**A/N Edit: Please please please vote in the poll on my profile. It is absolutely imperative you do so. Even if you don't review, I need as many votes as possible.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I lied. This chapter was supposed to have a funny bit but it got deleted due to unforeseen circumstances. The last part is also lifted mostly from the book. Do try and quell your disappointment. It was necessary. Such a boring chapter, really... I'm not fully sure yet, but I think that the next chapter will be the last one before heading off to Hogwarts. **

**Anyway, since you already know what happened to Harry, I figured you'd rather see what happened at the OotP whilst that occurred! Also, since this is a semi-post-canon AU deal, Ryou's realized what a tool his father is. Ryou's not a pathetic, deluded little bundle of adorable. He's slightly jaded and sad, but no longer deluded. Plus, I made Ryou's father a bit of a condescending ass. It just kinda happened.**

**Last, before I forget to mention, underlining is now going to be used for every instance of a non-English language. You can use the great big brains I know you all possess to figure out if it's supposed to be Parseltongue or Japanese or what-say-you. Get it? Got it? Good.**

* * *

Ryou was quickly realizing that wizards were highly unorthodox when it came to mail. He'd always assumed wizard letters went through the postal service, or they simply used the phone. Really, though, Ryou should have expected that something a little more magical took care of that little issue. Owls.

Of course, the fact that he'd never known about owl-mail was probably because his father hated owls. He only knew this little tidbit of information through sheer chance. Sometime between the death of his mother and sister and Ryou's father leaving for Egypt again, and Ryou couldn't remember for the life of him exactly when, an owl had appeared and scared the living daylights out of his father. Ryou never would forget the look on his dad's face when he saw that owl, the way he paled and stuttered for Ryou to go to his room immediately, no more questions. He'd never seen another owl ever again.

After Ryou thought about it more, there was probably more to this story than his dad simply being afraid of the bird. It wasn't the owl, but rather whatever message it must have held. It only made sense that if his family had severed all ties to the magical community, they shouldn't have been receiving mail by owl.

Ryou still didn't know what that had been about, he had been young enough then that he hadn't paid it much heed, not to mention he was still upset about the deaths of his sister and mother and the curse of the ring at the time. He'd forgotten all about it. In fact, he'd paid the memory little to no mind until recently, when he'd caught sight of an owl inside of Grimmauld Place. To him, the birds were quickly becoming the harbingers of bad news, the profits of doom.

Nothing good seemed to come from those birds. No good at all.

When a tawny barn owl swooped low over their heads and into the kitchen, Ryou, who had been sitting at the table going over the books Sirius had allowed him to borrow from the Black family library, watched as it rocketed into sight. He hadn't the slightest clue as to what was going on at the time. All he knew was that he didn't like the attention everyone suddenly gave that bird.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, sounding worried. She had poked her head into the room, having seen the owl fly in only seconds ago.

"Nothing you need to worry about, go upstairs," Moody said, closing the door.

It was dead silent for a moment as everyone waited with bated breath, watching where the owl had winged its way into the kitchen, until Mrs. Weasley entered the room. She looked thoroughly frazzled. "Dumbledore's at the ministry! I just got word from Arthur, they're trying to sort this out..."

"Molly, breathe," Tonks suggested, noting the way Mrs. Weasley seemed only seconds from hyperventilating. "What happened?"

"It's Harry! He's gone and preformed magic in front of muggles!"

"What? Why's he gone and done a stupid thing like that?" Sirius roared

"Don't ask me!" she replied, wringing her hands together nervously before pulling a piece of parchment from a pocket. "Arthur and Dumbledore will sort this out, though. He just sent a letter saying he would."

Sirius grabbed the letter from her, eyes scanning over the words rapidly. He pulled a face as he finished, obviously displeased by what he was reading. He threw the letter on the table before stalking off.

"Where are you going?"

"Gonna send a letter to Harry telling him not to leave his aunt and uncle's house. Knowing him, he's gonna try something like that," Sirius fumed, slamming the door behind him as he left.

Ryou felt lost as they talked. Over and over in his head, as if stuck in a constant loop, were words like Ministry of Magic, under-age magic, trial, and more. Whatever was going on, it was really bad and had the adults around Ryou worried about Harry's safety.

From what Ryou gathered, there was a certain age in which you were allowed to use magic. It couldn't have been too old, since Fred and George flaunted the fact that they could use magic whenever they wanted to the others. But then, Hermione practiced magic on occasion inside, and nothing had ever happened to her, nor to Ryou when Bakura had used shadow magic all those times before.

He sat in silence, simply listening. This could be useful later. Ryou just knew it.

* * *

"Hedwig!" Hermione cried in surprise, leaping to her feet.

A tapping noise on the window had alerted her to the snowy bird's presence at the window, and she quickly shifted the pane of glass out of the way so that the owl could enter the room. There were three letters tied to Hedwig's ankle, one addressed to her, another to Ron, and the third to Sirius.

"Ron, it's Hedwig," she cried as she loosened the notes. She opened hers up, ready to read it aloud. "_'I've just been attacked by dementors and I might be expelled from Hogwarts. I want to know what's going on and when I'm going to get out of here.' _Oh, Ron, this is horrible!"

"You're telling me. Blimey, he isn't serious is he?" Ron asked from where he had been sitting, a set of exploding snap cards formed into the shape of a tower before him.

"Why would Harry lie about dementors? Wait, this must be what the owl downstairs was for!"

"What owl?"

Hermione shook her head. "There was this owl that flew into the dining room. I asked what was going on, but they told me to come up here. I was worried that something had happened to Harry and I was right!"

Ron took his letter as well, only to find it held an identical message.

Hedwig let out a somewhat demanding shriek at them, holding out her other leg in need of a reply. When neither of the two paid her any mind, she took wing and headed for the closest person, Ron, her beak nipping at his finger. Ron yelped in shock, backing away as quickly as he could only for Hedwig to follow him. Everywhere his hand went, her beak followed, pecking it until it had gored a rather deep cut into his index finger. Hermione received her own fair share of injuries trying to pull the bird off of him.

"Bloody hell, go after Sirius!" Ron ordered, still trying to find reprieve from the now-vicious owl. Hedwig hooted dolefully at him and took off again, heading out the door and towards the stairs.

It was calm for a moment. Ron glanced at his now-weeping wounds with a pitiable expression. Hermione's own hands bled slowly as well. There was a loud crack and one of the beds in the rooms let out a bemoaning creak as the weight of two identical wizards was suddenly added.

"What do you two want," Ron grumbled, still miffed at his bleeding hands.

"Excuse us for thinking you might want to listen in on the meeting with us," Fred sniffed.

"Yes, little brother, you may want to think about who you're talking to before speaking. And here we were, considering being so generous as to let you join us..." George added, wiping a non-existent tear from below his eye before grinning.

Fred held up an extendable ear and grinned as well.

* * *

Sirius's return marked a complete one-eighty in the direction of the conversation, a scribbled note in his hands that was nearly identical to the one that had arrived via owl only a short while ago. He threw it onto the table with a rather frightening expression on his face.

Ryou could just make out the chicken scratched words on the paper.

_'I've just been attacked by dementors and I might be expelled from Hogwarts. I want to know what's going on and when I'm going to get out of here.'_

"Dementors," Sirius spat. "Dementors in Little Whinging. That's why he used magic."

Everyone paled, notwithstanding Ryou, who hadn't the slightest clue as to what a dementor was. Voices raised, and miniature, disjointed debates broke out.

"But that's impossible!"

"Apparently not."

"Where was Mundungus?"

"Good-for-nothing slime must have left his post..."

"What are dementors doing so far from Azkaban?"

"Hell if I know! Someone must have sent them!"

"But who would do that? Surely not the Ministry, but they have control over them!"

"Do you think you-know-who has control of them?"

That final remark silenced everyone.

Ryou broke that silence. Tentatively, he broached the question, saying, "Erm, could someone please explain what a dementor is?" in his quiet voice.

Lupin was the one to answer, his voice a resigned sigh. "Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, and they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Get too near a dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you.

"If it can, the dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself, soulless and evil. You will be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. This is known as the dementor's kiss. They are guards of the wizard prison, Azkaban. Only someone with extremely powerful magic, or something truly vile to offer them, could possibly hope to control them."

"Is that why you're all so worried? You're wondering who sent them?"

"Exactly," Lupin said. "If you-know-who has control of the dementors, then we would no longer be in charge of Azkaban. Prisoners could easily escape and rejoin his ranks as death eaters and that would make it even more difficult to stop him."

Ryou nodded. That was certainly something to worry about. "But wait, who is this 'you-know-who'? Because I don't think I 'know-who' you're referring to."

"Nobody says his name, not even his followers," Lupin said. "No one except for Dumbledore and Harry."

"But what is his name?" Ryou pressed. Lupin's face twitched slightly. He obviously didn't want to say it.

"I'll write it down," Lupin said finally. Mrs. Weasley handed him a strange pen that looked like a feather and he took the piece of yellowish paper from where it sat in the center of the table. He folded back a corner of it and scribbled a single word out on the slip of paper before passing it back to Ryou. Ryou picked it up.

The paper felt much more coarse than he expected, as if it weren't the usual sort of paper he was accustomed to. /It's parchment, or at least an imitation of it. It doesn't feel like the real stuff/ Bakura replied to the unspoken question. /It was invented about three thousand years ago, in case you were wondering/ Ryou ignored the factoids, deciding it would be better to read the name rather than muse about why Bakura was playing trivia.

'Voldemort'.

The slip fell from his hands. Bakura howled with laughter. /That weirdo's got them all freaked out?/ Ryou would have echoed the sentiments if he hadn't stared long and hard into that man's rust colored eyes and seen all of the tortured evil hidden inside. It was true that the Voldemort man had been disturbing, but Ryou hadn't realized that he'd been the great evil that they wanted to protect Harry from.

Suddenly, everything was falling into place. Voldemort wanted to kill Harry, he'd said as much in the meeting. He had said that there was only one thing standing in the way of reaching his goals, and if the others' behaviors were any indicators, it was Harry that was in the way. Voldemort had wanted to use him and Bakura to destroy Harry.

Of course, if Bakura could get along with anyone halfway capable long enough to formulate a legitimate plan with them and see it all the way through, there wouldn't be a thing around that could stop him. Ryou could actually thank his lucky stars that Bakura preferred to work alone, not counting Ryou, especially after the utter failure he'd gone through with Malik. If Bakura and Voldemort had teamed up, and Ryou was only hypothesizing this based off their reactions to Voldemort's very name, he had a feeling that they'd be able to do anything, even defeat Yami and Yuugi.

The world would have certainly been in trouble then. So it was a good thing that they were here now, helping the good guys. Ryou was even more sure that they were the good guys now, because they wanted to bring Voldemort to an end.

"I-I see," he said. "Would it be possible for me to be excused? I promised Hermione and Ginny I would study with them again tonight and I think I'm making them wait on me."

"Of course, dear. Go on ahead," Mrs. Weasley replied sweetly. As Ryou stood up to leave, he could hear her hushed tones scolding several of the other members with words of, 'he wasn't ready, he's just a boy,' that caused Bakura to chuckle.

He opened the door, and felt a buzz of magic pass through the doorknob as the disenchantment was dispelled by his touch. He could only stare blankly in shock. There, hovering before him, suspended on a pale, fleshy string, was an ear. And he wasn't the only one to notice. Mrs. Weasley did, too.

"Fred, George!" she yelled angrily, charging up and ripping the suspended ear from the hands of the group of kids gathered around it a flight of stairs above Ryou's head. "How many times do I have to tell you about these things? That's it, accio! Accio!" she cried, and several more of the ears came whizzing down to where she stood, filling her arms. She stormed off, and Ryou heard the sounds of her throwing them into the garbage bin.

One of the twins winked at the rest of the group and smiled. "Don't worry, we've got loads more."

Ginny cast a sidelong glance downstairs and saw Ryou. A large smile sprung onto her face instantly. "Ryou!" she called happily. He waved and started up the stairs.

* * *

The next morning, Ryou had finally worked up enough courage to send a letter to his father, knowing that he had to try after saying he would, but not expecting a reply too much. His father would need to know where he was, after all, and there was no way his father could ignore an owl. He would probably at least read the letter. It was a tad depressing that Ryou had to think this way, but he'd finally woken up to the way the world worked. His father was ignoring him, and he'd been stupid to delude himself otherwise for as many years as he had.

It didn't hurt that Bakura had been mentioning something along those line for years.

Ryou simply too closely resembled his dead family. Aren couldn't stand it. But this was important, and so he sent the letter off. A reply came sooner than he expected. Much sooner.

By the time Hedwig, an owl he had borrowed to deliver his letter, had returned, only two days had passed. Ryou's fingers were numb as they unfolded the stiff parchment wizards liked to use, ignoring the cuneiform-esque handwriting that spelled out the letters of his name. Inside were more of the angular characters that made up his father's handwriting.

_Ryou,_

_I can't say I'm pleased by your decision to attended Hogwarts, but it would seem that I'm too late to do anything about it if I wanted to stop you. Yes, you may attend, however I can't allow your choice of actions to go unpunished, namely running off to England without letting me know. You will not be allowed Hogsmeade weekends. Please try to understand. Now that you've entered the world of magic, you're going to have to catch up with the others. I can only hope that time will be put to studying. _

_Dumbledore has already reached me, so I already know your entire situation. As such, I fully expect you to return home during your break. I won't pretend that you understand, but hear me out. Stay close to Potter and his friends regardless of your house. It would be best for everyone if you spent as little time in magic as possible, but Dumbledore insists. So all I can tell you is that you should avoid the Malfoys and try to behave. I can't stress enough how important it is that we don't have a repeat of the last few years, but I really don't think I need to remind you, now, do I?_

_I digress, I have one last thing that needs to be said. There is an Egyptian boy who keeps dropping by my tent, pestering me to tell you he says hello, so let the record show that I've passed his message on._

_Best Regards,_

_Aren Bakura_

Ryou's fingers involuntarily crumpled the paper slightly as a foreign surge of anger coursed through him. Some of it was his. Most of it was Bakura's. Bakura hated Ryou's father. Something about how his father was a coward for running back to Egypt seemed to strike a nerve with the spirit, and Ryou supposed he understood. Bakura dealt with his grief by vowing revenge. His father probably seemed weak by comparison.

But it didn't change the fact that the letter was almost dripping with sublimated condescension. That was what angered them both. Ryou wasn't even sure if his father deserved to say these things anymore. Hadn't he lost those privileges when he left his son to his own devices all those years ago? Not to mention the fact that he hardly even acknowledged Ryou as his son.

In fact, the only part of the letter that remotely interested Ryou whatsoever was the mention of the Egyptian boy. If not for the rest of the note, he probably would have broke out into laughter upon reading it. It was so... Malik. It was also excellent proof that his friend had vacated his apartment.

But it didn't help much. Reading the letter had made Ryou feel sick to his stomach. It was surprising, really, how the one thing Ryou had wanted for years, a simple reply to his letters, could make him want to throw up as much as it did.

There was a knock at the door.

"Ryou, time for the meeting!" Mrs. Weasley's voice called out through the wood.

He let out a sigh he hadn't realized he'd been holding in as his eyes flickered up to the door. "I don't think I'll join you today. I'm not feeling well," he replied honestly. Just thinking about his father's letter made him feel nauseous.

He'd been a good boy and gone to every meeting, regardless of how boring they were, but he really couldn't bring himself to attend today. What new information could they have? They'd been rehashing the same strategy for the last few days, trying to figure out the best method of extracting Harry from Privet Drive. In fact, if Ryou recalled correctly, they'd be doing it tonight. He hoped nothing happened to them. There had been enough worrying already.

"Do you need anything, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked him, and concern colored every facet of her tone.

"No, I'll be fine; I probably just need to lie down for a while. I should be good to go in a few hours!" he said with mock gaiety.

"Alright," she replied, still obviously perturbed. "If you do end up needing anything, you only have to ask."

Ryou smiled softly to himself. Mrs. Weasley was so kind, acting like a mother to him even when she had more than enough kids of her own to deal with. Some mothers would have thrown their hands in the air and given up after dealing with all that she had, but Mrs. Weasley only took it all in stride. It made Ryou miss his own mother dearly. She'd always been so kind, which was probably why she ended up being a Hufflepuff.

Ryou had learned all about houses the other day, when Ginny had explained them all to him. Hufflepuffs were kind and patient, Slytherins were cunning and ambitious, Ravenclaws were full of wit and wisdom, and Gryffindors were daring and brave. He figured he'd be a Hufflepuff, since he wasn't particularly witty (his good grades were thanks to a bit of hard work more than anything else), nor daring (he stood up for his friends, sure, but he didn't think that fully counted), nor ambitious. Slytherin sounded like the perfect place for Bakura. For Ryou? Not so much. Even if his blood was pure, he doubted he'd be anything other than a Hufflepuff like his mother.

He flopped backwards onto his bed, staring up at the mottled pattern of mold that grew on the ceiling. There was a spell for cleaning that up, he remembered. What was it? Scoogify? Scrubbify?

"Scourgify," he muttered, jabbing his wand at the patch of growth and watching as it faded away.

"That'sss a neat trick," Uraeus hissed, and Ryou fought to quell the small amount of revulsion bubbling inside of him as he felt the snake's body drag along his shirt and onto his stomach.

Of course Bakura's damn snake would choose now of all times to come out and bug him. His pet spirit and his pet snake were thick as thieves, pun fully intended, although the snake seemed to be making a small amount of effort to extend the same level of courtesy to his new 'master'. Ryou didn't hate him _quite _as much as he had at first.

"Ssso tell me, what'sss the deal with that letter? It ssseemsss to have gotten you quite upsset."

Bakura solidified beside Ryou, scowling as he replied in Parseltongue, "Yadonushi's father is a coward and a fool. That upsets him."

"Why don't you jusst kill him and be done with it? He ssoundsss like he'sss more trouble than he'ss worth."

"With a hikari like mine, everything is more trouble than it's worth," Bakura said matter-of-factly.

"I can understand everything you're saying," Ryou reminded them both.

Bakura grinned. "I know."

Ryou tilted his head down to glare at the snake. "And we aren't killing my father. He's not a great dad, but he's all I have. No killing allowed," he said resolutely.

The snake's expression melted into something that was almost... sheepish. "Not even a little?" he asked meekly.

"Not even a little. I don't know how things were run in Egypt, but here, you aren't supposed to do that."

The snake's scaly face twisted up as far as was feasibly possible for an emerald serpent like Uraeus, and he looked extremely dissatisfied. "Hmph, fine," he said, flicking his tail. "Have it your way."

"I will," Ryou said, crossing his arms across his supine form.

He heard a noise downstairs, and he sat up quickly, forgetting for a moment about the snake. It swore something that doesn't translate well to English. Ryou ignored him, listening hard. The stairs were creaking quietly at an unfamiliar pace. Everyone had a different gait, a different sound as they climbed the noisy wooden stairs, and this one was completely alien.

And then he heard a loud voice right outside his bedroom.

"Harry! Ron, he's here, Harry's here! We didn't hear you arrive! Oh, how _are _you?" Hermione asked, her words flowing out at a rapid pace. Joy made her babble almost incoherently, until Ryou heard Ron's voice and the closing of a door. They'd gone inside of Ron's bedroom.

Well, all the better than, Ryou supposed. He could meet Harry later, when the excitement had died down. The other two were much more excited than he to see the boy, so he'd just leave them be for the time being. It was peaceful, for a while.

But then Harry started yelling. Ryou really didn't blame him much, considering all that he'd gone through, but he really did wish that Harry could be a little quieter. There were things in this house that slept, and it was better to leave them to their sleep. Bakura kept him up all night only yesterday telling him ghastly stories of all the things that were going bump in the night. Ryou had been thrilled, until it came time to extinguish the candle.

And Harry's yelling was also making his head hurt. "FOUR WEEKS I'VE BEEN STUCK IN PRIVET DRIVE, NICKING PAPERS OUT OF BINS TO TRY AND FIND OUT WHAT'S BEEN GOING ON-" Harry went on, allowing only a slight pause that Ryou assumed to be someone (likely Hermione) interjecting.

That was it. Ryou stood quickly, forgetting Uraeus on the bed. Something was stirring in the house, he could feel it. Were the wizards stupid? Or perhaps they just couldn't feel it like the shadows Bakura liked to surround himself could. Harry's tangent pressed on as Ryou left his room, not hesitating to open Ron's own door and intrude on the trio.

"I SUPPOSE YOU'VE BEEN HAVING A REAL LAUGH, HAVEN'T YOU, ALL HOLED UP HERE TOGETHER-"

"No, honest-"

"Harry, we're really sorry!" Hermione said desperately. Her eyes were faintly wet with newborn tears not yet large enough to escape and spill down her cheeks. "You're absolutely right, Harry, I'd be furious if it were me!"

Ryou peeked inside, startled slightly by the sudden stillness. Harry, for the dark-haired boy Ryou had never seen before could only be Harry, was panting from his outburst and pacing back and forth in the room.

"Oh- Ryou!" Hermione said, sounding surprised. "I thought you weren't feeling well. Mrs. Weasley said you were lying down."

Oh, yeah. He'd completely forgotten he was supposed to be resting. With only slightly faked embarrassment, for most of it was very real, he scratched the back of his head and let a tired smile cross his face as he stepped inside. "It was a little hard to rest with all this racket. I was wondering what was up, but I see it's just Harry's arrival," he said.

"Who's this?" Harry snapped irritably.

"I'm sorry! I guess I haven't properly introduced myself yet. Hello, I'm Ryou Bakura," Ryou said, extending his hand in usual English fashion, though the slight lilt to his tone as he said his name was still distinctly Japanese. "I'll be going to school with you this year."

Harry's eyes narrowed distrustfully, although this was directed more at his friends than at Ryou. "What else did you guys know that I didn't?" he said quietly.

"Not much, Harry," Ron said. "The Order doesn't tell us anything."

Harry sighed deeply, massaging his temples. "Just what _is_ this place anyway?" he shot at them.

"The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix," Ryou replied helpfully.

"Is anyone going to bother telling me what the Order of the Phoenix-"

"It's a secret society," Hermione said quickly. "Dumbledore's in charge, he founded it. It's the people who fought against You-Know-Who last time."

"Who's in it?"

"Quite a few people-"

"We've met about twenty of them, but we think there are more. Ryou's as tight-lipped as the others, though, so he'll never tell us..." Ron said with a frown.

Harry's gaze flickered immediately to Ryou.

Ryou's eyes widened and his hands rose up defensively. "No, no, I can't tell you anything," he said automatically. "I'm not allowed."

"At least they tell you! I don't know anything!" Harry yelled, anger flaring up again. "And you two, have you heard anything? Well?"

"Er... 'Well' what?" Ron asked.

"Voldemort!" Harry said furiously, and all three winced. "What's happening? What's he up to? Where is he? What are you doing to stop him?"

"We've told you, the Order doesn't let us in on their meetings," Hermione said nervously. "So we don't know the details - but we've got a general idea," she added hastily, seeing the look on Harry's face.

"Ryou lets things slip sometimes," Ron began, and Ryou's face flushed in embarrassment. "And Fred and George invented Extendable Ears. They're really useful."

"Extendable-?"

"Ears, yeah. Only we've had to stop using them lately because Mum found out and went berserk. Fred and George had to hid them all to stop Mum binning them. But we got a good bit out of them before Mum realized what was going on. We know some of the Order are following known Death Eaters, keeping tabs on them, you know-"

"-and some of them are standing guard over something," Hermione added.

"They are always talking about guard duty," Ryou muttered. "But even I don't know what they're guarding."

"Couldn't have been me, could it?" said Harry sarcastically.

"Oh yeah," Ron said, looking as if everything suddenly made sense. Ryou fought back an uncharacteristically derisive snort. They talked about guard duty often, and they talked about Harry duty just the same, but the way they spoke made Ryou think they were talking about something completely different from guarding Harry. It was something secret.

"So if you aren't allowed in meetings, not counting... Ryou," Harry said, slightly awkwardly, "then what are you doing? You said you've been busy."

"We have," Ryou managed first. "We're always cleaning."

"Exactly," Hermione said. "We've been decontaminating this house. It's been empty for ages and stuff's been breeding in here. We've managed to clean out the kitchen and most of the bedrooms already."

"And tomorrow we're doing the drawing roo- Eep!" Ryou yelped suddenly.

Two loud, simultaneous cracks scored the air as Fred and George materialized in the middle of the room. Ron's tiny owl, a beastie named Pigwidgeon, was going crazy above their heads after all of the excitement.

Ryou used their arrival as a segue to his departure, shaking his head disdainfully. He trusted those mischievous twins about as far as he could throw them, and that is to say, not at all. Harry seemed to be done with yelling, anyway, and he retreated to his room to collect his forgotten emerald pet. Uraeus would be sulky all day if Ryou simply forgot about him, and Bakura would be severely ticked off.

He paused outside of Ron's room, listening. They hadn't even seemed to notice his disappearance yet. He shrugged and entered his own room.

Out of slowly growing habit, he allowed Uraeus to slip past his cuff and into the left shirtsleeve of his bright blue button-up. The snake settled comfortably where his head could poke out of the bottom of the sleeve just enough that he could see out if he wanted to. It also made it simple to sneak Uraeus food, since the little snake ate a lot more than Ryou had expected.

He hadn't told anyone of the snake yet. It was his little secret.

He wondered vaguely if the meeting was over yet. He didn't know what more they had to talk about now that Harry was here. Well, the boy's arrival had certainly helped Ryou forget about his father's letter. He was feeling much better now that his mind was off the subject. He did hope Harry got his own distraction because, from what Ryou had both heard and seen, this 'chosen one' deserved his own distraction.

Well, cleaning could help with that. Cleaning always made Ryou feel better. Mostly it was because he just couldn't relax in filth, but he did enjoy the actual job of cleaning in and of itself. Maybe that was what they were discussing, Ryou mused.

/Not likely/

Ryou hummed lightly in response. It was possible. Highly unlikely, sure, but it was completely possible. The house looked like a disaster area. There were things living here that Ryou didn't even have names for. He was fairly curious at this point, and since he didn't feel like sticking around the others, he went downstairs.

Trying to ignore the smell (for it smelled terrible down there for some reason), he lifted his closed fist and rapped on the door. Or at least, he tried to. Instead, his fist came down, only to be sent flying backwards as if it were being repelled by some unknown force.

"That isn't going to work," a voice said, and Ryou jumped.

He turned rapidly, only to see Ginny sitting cross-legged in the hall, a small pile of brown things on the floor beside here. He recognized them as dungbombs. That would certainly explain the stench. Ginny stood slowly, picking up most of the discarded bombs that had been repelled by the door as she did so.

"It's imperturbable. Tonks taught me how to test for it," she informed him as she dusted off her hands on her pants. "Looks like you'll just have to wait like the rest of us."

"Oh," Ryou said simply.

"Anyway, I think I heard Harry, so I'm going upstairs to see how he'd doing." She offered him a wide smile and started back up the stairs, leaving him alone except for a mewling ginger cat.

With a resigned sigh and nothing better to do, Ryou sat down on the step. He could very well have a long wait ahead of him.

* * *

**So...********Hawaiianbabidoll pointed out something to me. Snakes don't have eyelids. I got them confused with lizards, which do. Snakes just have a transparent scale over their eye. Not earth-shattering, but I figured I'd mention it.**

******Also, I've almost caught up on reviews again. School pretty much took a dump on me and kept me crazy busy, so I spent whatever free time I had on my laptop trying to work canon into fiction. I took a break before final edits to reply to a bunch of reviews, but I'm going to go ahead and post tonight and finish replying in the morning. I'm dog tired :) You guys are all absolutely amazing. I don't deserve reviewers as good as you. **

******But... uh... that doesn't mean you shouldn't review. Seriously, reviews are like drugs. I get one and I need more. Feed my addiction?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Man, I so wish I had this out for the second... Then it could have been in honor of Ryou's birthday! Ah well...**

**I know I'll get some mixed reactions because I can't make everyone happy, but I personally love this chapter so much. Ryou fights a boggart, Bakura gets some spotlight action, there's a slight whiff of tendershipping, Hermione tries to figure things out, things get explained, and everyone heads to Hogwarts. What's not to love?**

**Also, I don't think it needs to be mentioned, but remember that the POV I'm using means that it's from a specific person's viewpoint. If they don't realize something or know about something, then it's as good as not happening at all to them. *steps off soapbox, folds it into a pocket-sized cube, bows, and leaves all of you wondering how it was just done***

* * *

"Look," Harry said, seeing the nervous way that his friends were looking at him. He'd just exploded at them, after all. No wonder they seemed skittish.

Hermione interrupted him before he could say anything. "We knew you'd be angry, Harry, we really don't blame you, but you've got to understand, we did try and persuade Dumbledore-"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry muttered grudgingly. He glanced around the room looking for another topic of conversation that didn't revolve around Dumbledore, a name that made his anger flare up just a little bit every time he heard it. "So, who's that Ryou?"

"We really don't know a whole lot about him. He just showed up a little over a week ago," Hermione said.

"And he didn't know any magic," Ron added. "Didn't even have a wand yet. Moody had to take him to get one."

"What? But if he's a wizard, how did he not have a wand yet?"

Hermione shook her head. "We've been trying to figure it out. And that's not all, either, Harry. I think Ryou's hiding something from us. We overheard him and Dumbledore talking about a secret they can't tell anyone outside of the room. It was really suspicious. I've been trying to find out more, but he acts completely normal."

"'Mione thinks there's something wrong with him," Ron said, as though he thought his friend was crazy. "She's even been tutoring him to see if he lets anything slip about that secret."

"And has he?"

Hermione made a face. "Honestly, I think there's something off about him! But every time I talk to him, he just seems so... polite. He couldn't stop thanking Ron's mom for fixing dinner the first night, and always insists he help clean up afterwards."

"He's just nice. He even bowed to us after introducing himself. He's just weird, and Hermione's imagining things," he laughed.

Harry cracked a small smile. "Maybe. You know, that's probably it. Isn't he foreign, too? I swear I heard an accent."

"Yeah, Japan," Ron answered. Hermione was simply glowering at the two of them.

"Fine. If neither of you want to take this seriously, then just forget it," she said.

"Excellent!" Ron replied. "I'm starving." He led the way out to the hall, just about to start down the stairs when he threw his arms out, stopping abruptly and forcing the other two to stops as well. "Hold it! They're still in the hall, we might be able to hear something-"

Harry glanced around at the assembled witches and wizards, all of whom were whispering excitedly. It took him little time at all to spot the startlingly bright white hair of Ryou Bakura, who was talking to none other than their favorite greasy-haired potions teacher, Professor Snape.

After a brief moment, they began to make their way towards the front door and out of sight. The audible, even from here, sound of the door opening and closing reached them only seconds later.

"Snape never eats here," Ron told Harry quietly. "Thank God. C'mon."

"And don't forget to keep your voice down in the hall, Harry," Hermione reminded him.

Mrs. Weasley led the procession back, informing them that dinner would take place in the kitchen. Ryou came next, expertly dodging the hideous troll-leg umbrella stand with what almost passed for well-practiced precision. Tonks brought up the rear, except she hadn't been so fortunate in avoiding the stand. In fact, she tripped over it just as Mrs. Weasley had been about to show Harry the way to the kitchen.

An earsplitting shriek drowned out her words, and Harry whipped his head around trying to find the source of the awful din. Tawdry velvet curtains that hung stiffly and moth-eaten on their respective hangings had flown wide open, revealing a painting on the wall of a woman, her face contorted as if in pain. The old woman was drooling with utter abandon, her eyes rolling wildly in their sockets with mania.

Lupin and Mrs. Weasley tried to close the curtains, but to no avail as the painting continued to scream. Her senseless cries had become a foul sort of bigotry. "Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers?" she cried. Her rolling black eyes landed on Ryou. "You! Blood traitor, abomination, shame of all that is pure! You whose family has betrayed the noble House of Black! Begone! Blood traitors beget blood traitors, and blood traitors are of the foulest sort!"

Her eyes wheeled freely around the room again, landing on each of the present Weasleys in turn, as well as Tonks, who looked thoroughly horrified at her actions. And then they landed on a shaggy, dark-haired man who'd just appeared in the room, drawn by the noise.

"Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut UP!" Sirius roared, lurching towards the hangings and assisting Lupin in replacing them. The curtains fought fiercely, refusing to return to their original places, but were soon brought back to where they belonged. The screams died down as soon as they had settled. "Hello, Harry," Sirius finally said, his expression just a little grim. "I see you've met my mother."

* * *

Summer faded away for all of them in that strange and unique way time has. Days stretched on for forever, the hours moving excruciatingly slowly and yet you can suddenly look up and realize that your week has already slipped away in the blink of an eye. This was exactly how the next few days were spent, awaiting Harry's hearing for underage magic. The day had rolled by with less pomp and circumstance than one might have expected, except, perhaps, for Ryou, who had been boundlessly excited to hear what it had been like.

The very name, Ministry of Magic, just made him curious. He'd congratulated Harry just as the others had for getting off scott-free, barely keeping back all of the questions he had wanted to ask. He barely knew Harry, after all, but he seemed fairly nice once he'd gotten over his petty yelling. He just didn't want to scare him off with his questions. Bakura liked him about as much as he liked Ryou's father. That is to say, not at all.

Ryou, however, had been enjoying himself greatly these last few days. He wasn't fully sure what the other three thought of him, and there were certainly times when they would seem just the slightest bit confused or suspicious, but he'd hardly noticed it at all. They were nothing but nice. He was also wholly entertained, with cleaning becoming the focal point of their days.

Magic took a bit of a backseat since Ryou's crash course that first week. He still practiced in the evenings, usually alone nowadays, and read voraciously. But now his choice in books had become decidedly darker after his discovery of a library behind a snake-adorned tapestry. Every one of the books contained spells that seemed more like Bakura's style than than the ones contained inside of Hermione's books. He itched to practice them out of sheer curiosity, but had a feeling it was probably for the best that he didn't for now.

Their letters eventually came in the mail. Ryou had been thrilled, ripping into the envelope much more eagerly than he had his last letter (which he had successfully forced from his mind). A long list of things filled the sheet, and he smiled broadly. He found out that evening that Ron and Hermione became prefects, which was cause for celebration that night at dinner. Mrs. Weasley had even bought her son a new broomstick. One thing had led to another, and Ryou eventually found himself learning about the wizarding world's most popular sport- Quidditch.

They had talked Ryou's ear off about the game, keeping all of them entertained while they waited for Mrs. Weasley to return with their books. Apparently it would have been a safety risk to take all of the students shopping, so Mrs. Weasley had gone alone. On the advice of both Ron and Harry (although Hermione had told him it was stupid to do so), he had given Mrs. Weasley money enough to also cover the cost of a broomstick of his own. Not an expensive one, of course, but one that was still nice, like Ron's.

After getting the broom, he'd spent a solid hour stroking the smooth wooden handle, tugging at the twigs at the bottom, and watching the broom float in the air as if buoyant. Of course, it was no different from what Ron did, which was talk anyone's ear off about the new broom who was unfortunate enough to linger long enough within a ten-foot radius. They wouldn't get a chance to fly the brooms until they got to Hogwarts, but Harry and Ron promised to take him out for a lesson or two.

The next morning, Lupin approached him with a new lesson- there was a boggart in the drawing room. He was going to learn how to get rid of one. Ryou couldn't quite quell his excitement. He'd read about them a little in his textbooks and was quite curious as to what his greatest fear would end up being. Bakura had teased him, saying that there were so many things, the boggart would probably get confused and simply vanish. Ryou had indignantly pointed out that he wasn't as much of a coward as Bakura seemed to think. He did like the occult more than normal people did, although he hadn't yet told the other three of that yet.

It was a little funny and quite a bit saddening to think about how many secrets he was keeping from them, for fear of judgement. Uraeus was one such secret, often left in Ryou's room so he couldn't be discovered, much to the snake's chagrin. His love of the occult, his spirit, his past, and his love of dueling were other such things that had been left unsaid. In fact, one could say they hardly knew him at all. They hadn't bothered to get to know him much. It was a little odd, he supposed, but that just came with time. Ryou, much like his yami, could be very patient.

All of these thoughts were buzzing in his head as he entered the drawing room, seeing Lupin waiting for him. He was taught the spell (Riddikulus) and how to go about working it. In simplest terms, the boggart would leap out, showing Ryou his worst fear. Ryou's job was to turn his fear into something funny. It would have been nice to know what his fear was so he could think of something amusing ahead of time, but he wasn't too worried.

He placed his feet solidly on the ground, bracing himself internally as the boggart was released. He hadn't quite been expecting what he'd received. The creature painted an entire scene for Ryou, an elaborate amalgamation of everything Ryou feared. He felt his heart quiver in dry terror, lurching up into his throat as he took in the scene before him.

A massive cauldron, familiar to him from Bakura's own memories, had taken over the room, filled to the top with liquid gold that sloshed cheerily at the sides. Too cheerily, for Ryou's taste, considering how the waves were made by the falling bodies of his friends.

Ryou paled. "R-riddikulus," he said weakly.

Every body to hit the surface threw up another dense cloud of smoke into the air, filling it and making it impossibly dark around him. His friends' screams tore at his eardrums, making him claw at his ears desperately. In the shadows, he could just make out a strange figure in the background. He paid no mind to the figure, however, as his eyes were drawn to the falling bodies.

"Riddikulus!" he cried, slightly more desperately.

One after another the bodies fell, slowing as they became more and more important to him, dying their respective horrendous deaths. The last ones to fall were Yuugi, and then Malik. And then, where the smoke was thinnest, he could just make out Bakura's laughing figure cut out in the shadows. His heart completely froze as Uraeus wound up Bakura's neck, settling comfortably to watch Ryou's family fall into the pot in slow motion.

He closed his eyes, fighting back the horrified tears that threatened to spill out onto his cheeks. All he could think to describe this as was a nightmare, and even then the words failed to truly encompass all of the pain that stung his heart, all of the fear that wracked his body. Salt stung his eyes as he watch his greatest fears play out in the vision before him.

The twisted and bleeding bodies of his long-deceased mother and sister capped off the long procession of the fallen into that massive, roiling pot of all-consuming molten gold, before the pièce de résistance of this tribulation finally arrived. Ryou himself tumbled through open air, though he hadn't moved once, his brilliant green eyes completely unseeing as he plummeted downward. His body hit the greedy lava and released a loud hissing eerily similar to bacon frying in a pan- the sound of sizzling flesh.

"R-ri-ridik..." he choked, sobs forcing their way out and making it impossible to speak.

Bakura's laughter quickly swallowed the sickening crackle, and the other Ryou's claw-like hand sunk below the surface. Ryou teetered unsteadily, swooning under the traumatizing scene before him. Ryou found himself again facing the burning pain of loneliness, a feeling he'd thought was far, far behind him. He was drowning under destitution, again left abandoned, comfortless, and forsaken-

"Riddikulus!" Lupin cried.

The scene around them went up in rapidly-vanishing smoke, the pot of gold shrinking to a pale silver disc. The not-Bakura grinned impishly for a moment before whiffing away into the same smoke, becoming clouds obscuring the moon. It wailed like a balloon leaking air as it began to fly crazily around the room.

"My apologies, Ryou. I had to give you a chance to do it yourself," Lupin told him, distractedly riffling through his pockets. He pulled out a small foil-wrapped chocolate bar emblazoned with a logo spelling out 'Honeydukes'. "Here, have some chocolate, it'll help."

Ryou quivered, sinking to the floor but not making a move to take the candy for several long seconds. Finally, awareness flitted across Ryou's expression, and he reached out to take the proffered hunk of sugared cocoa. "Thanks," he mumbled, placing it on his tongue. It melted slowly and the flavor made him lick his lips unconsciously.

He tilted his head back, scooting his body so he'd be sitting against the wall. He panted lightly. Fear had made his breath short, and it was slow getting it back.

"Well, that didn't go as I expected," Ryou said, cracking a weak smile as if he were fine. The mood lightened slightly, as intended. The chocolate made him feel better physically, but the lingering fear still grounded him to the floor.

"Nor I," Lupin replied. "I really am very sorry. I hadn't expected, well,"

"That my fears would be so vivid? So horrible? Yeah, me neither." Ryou stared at the ground, savoring the chocolate as it finished melting. "I think it was Bakura. No, I'm sure it was Bakura that made it so bad. The gold was his nightmare, not mine."

"Was that Bakura who was laughing? If it were his fears too, why would he be the one causing it?"

Ryou glanced up. "Because that part wasn't his fears, it was mine. I've lived for so long in fear that he'd hurt someone I'd love..." Ryou sniffed once. "I guess I'm still just a little worried that he'd do something."

"That does make sense. Ryou, you know that if Bakura ever grows out of hand, we will do all we can to excise him?"

"No!" Ryou cried. Lupin stared at him, confused. "I- I just mean... You can try, but it wouldn't work. We've been together so long... it just wouldn't work. My soul just doesn't function correctly anymore. There was a time a while back when I was separated from the ring. It was... horrible. I felt so empty... It was like a part of me was gone. Don't tell the others, please. There's nothing that can help me now."

* * *

Bakura had teased his light, taunted him. He'd told him that he'd be so scared of everything that the boggart wouldn't know what to do with him. Bakura had done everything he could to distract his yadonushi from the fact that he, Bakura, was nervous. And Yadonushi wasn't anywhere near as scared as he was.

As Bakura had seen it, this thing would dredge up the worst part of them. The odds were good that it would draw from both of them, both of their memories, both of their fears. He doubted his light had realized it until the very end. But Bakura was frightened of what it might pull up. Zorc had made him uncaring, but he was no such thing. His past still haunted him like a ghost.

And if there was one thing Bakura knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, it was that it would pull from him the same cauldron of gold that filled his every day with misery and despair, even after some-odd thousand years. It would pull from him the day that had made his life an eternity of hell, and then throw it in the face of both him and his unsuspecting light.

And then, when everything had gone wrong and just as he thought it would, he was helpless to do a thing about it. Because when the scene sprang forth from the drawer it had been hiding in, a line was drawn in their minds. This line kept them apart from each other, kept them in their respective realms. Bakura was trapped again. The worst part was that it was his light that was trapping him.

Bakura was a strong shadow mage, stronger than any other and with a will to match, but he was helpless under the tumultuous emotions of his lighter half. Yadonushi's fear was like iron chains binding him down, tethering him to his ring. He was blocked out of his light's mind, resigned to watching without a chance of influencing anything. He was trapped. He couldn't even reach for the shadows to form a body of his own.

And so he'd watched, a sour feeling curling in his gut, as his light's mind descended into the same dark pit it had existed in when Bakura had been less Bakura and so much more Zorc. He'd caused this. In a way, he really had. It was feeding off Bakura's fears and using it to fuel Hikari's.

And Bakura actually felt _guilty_ about it. He'd been approaching this feeling for the last few months, since he'd returned after the Ceremonial Duel, Zorc extinguished from existence. He'd begun feeling guilty for what he'd done to his light. He'd started, dare he say, feeling slight affection for the boy.

It'd been slow-growing: a trace of anger when his light thought about his father, a tinge of unhappiness when Hikari didn't notice his friends ignoring him. He didn't even want to admit it to himself, let alone to the boy. He couldn't even bring himself to think the name. Habit kept him seeing his host as 'Yadonushi', 'Hikari', and not Ryou. Never Ryou.

But it was there. Faint, ever present. He'd pushed it back, ignored it. But that affection always came back to him at the most inconvenient moments, and it flared up with disturbing frequency lately.

Why, it had only been a few weeks ago when he'd dragged his light to Europe. Taking the shadows there by himself would have caused his host unimaginable pain. The shadows would have sapped him to near-death. Estimated recovery? A month. At least.

He could have also never let his host regain consciousness. But no, he was curious. How would the boy take awakening in England? And it had been so much better than Bakura had expected. His host had accepted it, rolled with it. Sassed.

The same again with Uraeus. He'd known Hikari was terrified of snakes, but Uraeus was a piece of Bakura's past. The idea that the same innocuous serpent that had saved Bakura time and again could then keep an eye out for his host had been... attractive. Fighting the Pharaoh had made Bakura realize that he might not always be there. His host was a danger magnet, a victim of bullies, his own innocence, even Bakura himself.

Uraeus was a way of paying his hikari back for all that he'd done. They were, in a way, one in the same. Both looked weak, like they'd never do anyone harm, until it came time to stick a knife in someone's back. Bakura'd seen his host angry before. It could take anyone aback.

That first night, when he'd been cleaning up the mess he'd made under Hikari's orders, he'd told Uraeus all that had happened over the years. Everything had been told, from the night Uraeus had been wrenched apart by the Pharaoh's guards to the night he'd been reborn. And as it turned out, it had been enough that Uraeus could surmise the attraction on his own. He'd known enough about Bakura to see the subtle hints.

Bakura felt for the boy he'd ruined and torn apart. Given time, Yadonushi probably would have gotten over the deaths of his mother and sister without too much guilt of his own. It had been Bakura's stinging barbs that made him think that it was his fault after all, that he'd been the one to bring about their deaths.

And now again, he was ruining his light. Causing his light pain. And the light didn't know that Bakura's appearance in the scene, killing Yadonushi, wasn't Yadonushi's fears- it was Bakura's. He wouldn't, couldn't tell him that.

He couldn't even tell his yadonushi that the nosy little trio he called his friends were watching everything through a crack in the door.

* * *

"I told you he was suspicious!"

"Hermione, this doesn't prove anything," Ron said. "Obviously he's got a vivid imagination."

Hermione let out a huff of air at the two nay-saying boys she sat across from. They'd snuck upstairs before they could get caught in the act of observing Ryou's lesson, and all they knew for sure was that whatever they'd seen had been pretty horrible.

It wasn't exactly uncommon for someone to fear the death of people you love, but it was uncommon for one to see those who die actually dying, especially in such a... different way. Where exactly had the cauldron of golden liquid come from? And why was there not one Ryou, but two in the boggart's illusion? Most people never factored into their own boggart-induced nightmares. Most people weren't frightened enough of death for it to be the star. If anything, it was others' deaths.

Hermione had read about it once, surprisingly enough, in a muggle psychology article. It spoke in great length about something called an 'optimism bias' that caused people to tend towards optimism. Even pessimistic people were found to be somewhat optimistic about the future. It was human nature to think about food and shelter before their own immanent deaths. What could have happened to Ryou to make him see so many people die?

And another puzzle- the two people who had looked similar to Ryou. For a while the people, a motley crew of the most unusual people she'd ever seen with hairstyles she couldn't make up if she tried, had screamed while burning alive, but had otherwise been fine. The two women with white hair had been covered in blood, their bodies mangled. They didn't scream, not even when they hit the gold. Neither had Ryou himself. Dead before they ever hit the boiling liquid?

But the other Ryou, the horrible, mean-looking one, had been cackling, laughing at the falling victims. Maybe he was scared of himself? But that 'Bakura' he'd talked about. A brother? It was his own surname, which made it a little strange but not altogether off for him to call his brother that. But then, it wasn't likely, considering how the family tree...

The family tree! The woman was obviously pictured on the tree, right above Ryou. His mother. And hadn't Ryou and Sirius mentioned that his sister hadn't been pictured? A squib? But what about the almost-Ryou? Could it be that he wasn't pictured either?

In the vision, they'd looked similar, but there was enough difference between the two to make it fully obvious that they couldn't be the same person. The eyes, for one. Through all the smoke, it had been the eyes that had shone the brightest. Hermione could remember disturbingly red eyes set under the angry white brows, while dead green eyes reflected pallid light from the falling Ryou's vapid expression. The red-eyed Ryou could be the 'Bakura' spoke of before. Yes, Ryou'd said as much.

She thought back. Had there been two burn marks beside Ryou, or three? Had he had a brother? Who was the mysterious Bakura? And another thing- why was this Bakura, whoever he was, influencing Ryou's fears? Ryou had said that the gold was Bakura's, not his. How was something like that possible?

And then the secret. Perhaps this 'Bakura' was the secret Dumbledore had spoken of. Hermione was sure of it, especially when Ryou mentioned that he didn't want Lupin to tell the others. More secrets.

Or maybe it was the ring he mentioned. Ryou said something about horrible things happening when he was separated from some ring. The thing was, she'd never seen him wearing a ring. There wasn't a thing around any one of his fingers, no thin bands of silver or gaudy baubles bearing a curse. From the mention of his soul being somehow broken, a curse was all that occurred to her.

She tried to tell the other two, but they just wouldn't listen. They still saw Ryou as the polite push-over he acted like. He even did their summer homework for them after they asked him to! There was something up; Hermione just knew it. And she didn't like it. She wondered what it would take for them to realize that something was up with that innocent little act, because if there was one thing she was sure of, it was that it was all an act.

* * *

The remaining days passed on into oblivion. Ryou got up early, same as usual, with his things packed and ready to go. It had been the same relaxing morning he was used to.

Until he left the sanctity of his temporary bedroom. Outside it was chaos. People were hurrying around in a rush, all of them searching for some misplaced something or other. The twins kept 'CRACK'ing in and out of sight, popping here and there in search of things they'd stashed away in hidden niches. Ron and Harry overslept.

After everything was finally settled, Moody took their luggage ahead of them, planning on loading it on a cart for all of them and allowing them to walk themselves up. He'd asked why they were walking, since it seemed like it'd be safer for them all to just ride in cars, but he'd only been told that they hadn't been able to get them this year. But then, it was only a brisk twenty minute walk, so Ryou didn't mind much at all. He'd been missing fresh air.

They'd been cooped up for weeks inside, and it had gotten to be miserable. Ryou really felt for poor Sirius, who'd been stuck inside for months before he'd even arrived. He didn't blame the man for wanting to leave. He'd been one of the people who stuck up for Sirius's decision to join them. It had absolutely nothing at all to do with the fact that he was curious as to what Sirius looked like a dog. Okay, well, maybe a little.

It was funny to see him romping around, Ryou thought. He acted very little like a real dog. It was entertaining to watch. Even Harry and Ron got a good laugh out of him chasing a few cats and spooking a few birds.

The best part had to have been once they got to King's Cross Station, though. At first Ryou had been confused, as there was clearly no platform nine and three quarters as implied by his letter. But once they'd met up with Moody, his porter's cap pulled low over his mismatched eyes, they'd gone _through _the wall between platforms nine and ten. Never mind the fact that theoretically, that would have made it platform nine and a half.

There had been an entire new world inside of the pillar, one populated by throngs of magical students. Ryou held Uraeus a little closer to him inside of his sleeve, not wanting the serpent to slip out in all of the excitement. He had a bad feeling in his gut about bringing the snake with him, even if Bakura had told him to, because the letter had said nothing about snakes for pets. Students were allowed a cat, rat, or owl. Nothing was mentioned about snakes.

Not wanting to get lost, he hurried to catch up with the others. He could just sit with them, he reasoned. Of course, that plan went down the toilet when Ron and Hermione, prefects, had to go down to a special carriage for other prefects like them. Fred and George also left, wanting to hang out with someone named Lee. That left just Harry, Ginny, and Ryou. They boarded the train together in search of a carriage.

* * *

**Logical endpoint is logical (to me, anyway). From a character development standpoint, I'll have to flesh out Ron and Harry eventually. Probably a bit next chapter. It's on my to-do list. Conflict will be there, as will a possible cliffhanger. Haven't started the next chapter yet, so we'll see how that goes. **

**Also. ****Follow my exact instructions. Open up a new tab. Go to youtube. Click on the search bar. Type in 'I Fight Dragons The Faster the Treadmill'. Watch. Smile. Review.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Half of you are going to hate me for this, I can already tell :) The other half... you'll probably be thrilled. Or hate me too. I'm really not fully sure at this point. But I'm doing what I want to do, so you'll have to deal.**

* * *

"Come on," Ginny told them both, reminding them that they were still standing in the corridor and needed to find themselves a compartment. "If we get a move on, we'll be be able to save them places."

Ryou and Harry both nodded, gathering up their things and struggling to find an empty compartment. For reasons Ryou didn't understand, in every compartment they investigated, people whispered and pointed at them. This went on until they finally reached the final carriage, where they met someone Harry and Ginny seemed to know. It was a slightly portly boy who was fighting to keep a one-handed grip on a toad.

"Hi, Harry," he panted. "Hi, Ginny, uh..."

"Ryou, Ryou Bakura," he said with a smile.

"Neville Longbottom," the boy replied hastily. "Everywhere's full... I can't find a seat..."

"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked. Ryou glanced over to her, realizing she had slipped past Neville to peer into the compartment behind him. "There's room in this one, there's only Loony Lovegood in here." Neville muttered something about not wanting to disturb someone and Ginny laughed. "Don't be silly! She's all right!"

Ginny slid the door open and pulled her trunk inside. The boys followed her without question.

"Hi, Luna. Is it okay if we take these seats?" she asked.

A dreamy looking girl whose protuberant eyes gave her a permanently surprised expression gazed up at them. She struck Ryou instantly as different, and he felt for the girl who was reading a magazine upside down and wearing a necklace of bottle caps. He wouldn't have been surprised if she got bullied too, especially considering the offhand way Ginny had called her Loony, rather than Luna.

She looked them all over, her gaze ranging over Neville, lingering on Harry for a moment, and settling on Ryou. She nodded.

"Thanks," Ginny said, smiling.

They all stowed away their luggage, Luna's gaze constantly darting between Ryou and Harry.

"Had a good summer, Luna?"

"Yes," she replied dreamily. "Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. You're Harry Potter," she added, her eyes settling on Harry.

"I know I am," Harry replied.

Neville chuckled. Luna's gaze flickered over to him. "And I don't know who you are. Or you," she added, looking back at Ryou.

"I'm nobody," Neville said quickly.

"No you're not," Ginny said sharply. "Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood. Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw."

"_Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure_," Luna said in a singsong voice. "Oh, but who are you? I know I've never seen you before."

"I'm Ryou Bakura," he said for the second time of the day. In a way, he relished the feeling, because he had an excellent feeling that the people in this compartment could very well end up as more friends. That little fact made Ryou very excited.

They chatted for a while, Neville eventually producing a small, misshapen cactus that, when prodded, spewed a noxious substance he called 'Stinksap'. Bakura had gotten a good laugh out of that. Ryou felt really bad for Harry, though, because shortly after the cactus blew, a pretty girl Harry obviously had a crush on opened the door and saw them all covered in cactus slime.

Ryou, wishing to be helpful, whipped out his dual-core wand and said a firm, "Scourgify!" that made all of the Stinksap vanish.

"Sorry," Neville said again and again in a small voice.

A little while later, the food trolley came by. Lucky, too, because Ryou was ravenous. With a little bit of Bakura's help, Ryou collected a few of the fat gold galleons from the shadow realm (secretly of course, a small portal in his pocket had worked surprisingly well) and bought as many of the colorful, magical sweets he could, planning on saving the leftovers for tomorrow as a birthday present to himself.

It was great fun swapping Chocolate Frog cards with the others. It was almost like duel monsters back home- everyone seemed to play it, have their own set. It wasn't as fun as duel monsters, of course, because it was just a collection, not something you played with, but it was still interesting.

Hermione and Ron entered the compartment not long after, both looking disgruntled and tired. Ron flopped into his seat with his eyes closed, while Hermione sat a little more primly.

"Well, there are two fifth-year prefects from each House," she said. "Boy and girl from each."

"And guess who's a Slytherin prefect?" Ron groaned just as the compartment door slid open.

"Me, Potter," a voice said, and Ryou's gaze flickered immediately up to the source.

His jaw dropped open slightly. "Draco?!"

"Ryou?" Draco seemed genuinely surprised to see Ryou sitting amid the Gryffindors. "I thought you-"

"No, I'm fine," Ryou said, smiling pleasantly. "It's great to see you!"

"Wait, how d'you know Malfoy?" Ron suddenly said.

"Draco's my cousin," Ryou said, looking confused. "Why, what's wrong?"

"Hey, Hermione, do you remember? The tapestry?" Ginny asked.

Hermione nodded. Harry and Ron looked displeased. "Oi, Ryou, you don't want to be seen talking to Slytherins like _him_," Ron said.

"Yeah, the arrogance might be contagious," Harry added.

"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention," Malfoy drawled. "You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."

"Yeah," said Harry, "but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone." Laughter filled the compartment as Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville all dissolved into giggles.

"Just don't forget that my dear cousin may just end up a Slytherin, too. But I suppose you haven't even stopped to think about it, have you? Of course you haven't."

"Get out!" Hermione said, standing up.

Malfoy snickered, throwing Harry one last malicious look before turning to Ryou, who hadn't moved the entire time. "You coming, Ryou?" he asked.

Ryou was sure that if he could see himself, he'd very closely resemble a deer in the headlights. You see, he had no idea what he should do. Duty and Dumbledore, not to mention new friends, kept him tied to the Gryffindor (plus one Ravenclaw) pack. But was that more or less important than family?

Malfoy's face scrunched into a sneer before Ryou could even decide. "It isn't a trick question. Crabbe, Goyle, let's go," he said. Ryou's heart sank just a little bit. He hoped that he'd get the chance to make things okay soon.

"Nice job, Ryou!" Ginny cheered, her hand up and awaiting a high-five. Ryou halfheartedly returned it.

"Gryffindors and Slytherins never get along..." Luna mused. "I wonder why..."

"Because Slytherins are all conceited, arrogant, self-serving gits," Ron muttered. "There isn't a single wizard who's gone bad who wasn't in Slytherin house. Now, Gryffindor House," he began, effectively turning the conversation around, "is much better." Ron then went on to explain, in great detail, why courageous Gryffindors were better than cowardly Slytherins. Supposedly much of it had to do with inbreeding.

Ryou didn't feel like pointing out the fact that if all pureblood Slytherins were inbred, and Ryou was likewise a pureblood, Ron was saying that he, Ryou, was a product of incest. Which he wasn't, thank you very much.

After the subject had changed, however, Ryou completely forgot their old conversation. It hadn't been much longer after that when they all changed into their robes, the train pulled to a stop. They could all hear the brisk call of a female voice saying, "First years line up over here, please! All first years to me!"

A lantern swung toward the group and they saw woman guiding first-year students into boats.

"I think I have to go that way," Ryou said to the others, feeling awkward as he said it.

"Good luck!" Ginny called, waving.

Ryou nodded to himself as he walked down the gangplank, securing a boat to himself due to his seventeen (tomorrow) year old self being somewhat larger than the average eleven year old. The boat was no more than a little dinghy. He would have called it a paddle boat, even a rowboat, had there been some way of propelling it, but it seemed like that job had been left to magic.

Had Ryou mentioned he loved this magic? Because he loved this magic. Despite all of the petty rivalries between its users, life was made so much easier with it. Shadow magic took its toll on the body, but this sort of magic had no ill-effects on the user. Objects could even be bewitched to hold their own magic for long periods of time. He wondered if Yuugi and Malik were able to use the same sort of magic...

/I doubt it. From what I've seen, this magic is an inherited trait. It would seem that, since your mother and father had it, you received it too. I doubt the midget's parents are magic. The tomb keeper could, since he's got a lot of magic running through his veins anyway, but I don't think we'll ever know/

/_I guess so. Still, it would be neat to teach them when we get back!_/

/No way in hell am I allowing you to teach that baka pharaoh's light how to use new magic/ Bakura growled.

Ryou scrunched up his nose and let his fingers trail in the water. Small wakes were formed where the pale digits skimmed the murky water. /_Fine, I'll just teach Malik, then. He'd be interested_/

/For five minutes, maybe, if you're lucky. He and his psycho have the combined attention span of a rodent/

/_You're really cynical today, aren't you?_/

Bakura twisted Ryou's lips up into a wry smirk. /Huh, whatever would give you that idea?/ he said scathingly.

Ryou frowned at the water. Something brushed against his fingers and he yelped, retracting his hand immediately.

/Is that a squid? Now that's a big fish!/ Bakura exclaimed, seeing the faint silhouette of the sinuous body below the surface.

"How much longer?" Uraeus grumbled from Ryou's billowing sleeve. "That sssquid'sss making my ssscalesss itch."

"Quit complaining," Bakura scoffed, perching, half-visible, on the nose of the boat. "See? He's going back down."

"Whoa!" "Wow, look at it!" "It's amazing!" All around him, first years were breaking out into excited cheers as the castle loomed into sight. Ryou himself sat transfixed. It was absolutely beautiful. Firelight, as if from candles, flickered in the windows. The lake itself captured the reflections in its mirrored surface, pinning stars and flickering candles alike to the rippling surface. It was like a castle from a dream-land.

A small 'sugoi' slipped from Ryou's lips before he checked himself. He'd been doing so well at keeping himself speaking English thus far, and he didn't want to give it up now. Although, he didn't blame himself much for the mix-up. Considering the number of languages he knew, it was a marvel that he could stick to one so well at all.

Malik, for instance, could be jabbering away in Japanese before suddenly switching to Arabic halfway through the sentence. Actually, he did it on multiple occasions. Ryou usually was less attentive with which language he used when talking to Malik, anyway, as they understood most of the same languages. Malik was a little rough with English, and Ryou wasn't great at Arabic yet, but they understood each other flawlessly from their amalgamation of those two, as well as Japanese.

Ryou sighed. He actually missed Malik. Maybe he'd send his friend a letter tomorrow? Malik probably had no idea how to contact Ryou, so he figured it'd probably be up to Ryou to establish some form of correspondence. Supposedly the school had something called an owlery that was full of birds ready to send letters for students. He could just borrow one of those.

The boats drifted to a stop, thudding against the shore. He climbed out. His joints popped, stiff from being cramped for so long on the tiny ship. He ignored the pointed stares directed at him, the pointing fingers, in favor of following the woman as she led them to a large hallway.

Everyone was positively exuberant. Ryou was no exception, bouncing on his heels and listening to the whispers all around him. One first year actually approached him and asked the same question every other girl and boy was asking each other. "Why are you here?"

"I'm being sorted, same as you," he replied, smiling at the little boy.

"But you're old," a little girl pouted.

And therein existed the crux of why everyone was whispering about him: at a school where you were sorted at age 11, it was strange to see someone of Ryou's size and age waiting with a group of tiny first years.

Ryou turned his kind smile to her. "It's my first year, here, too." It only made sense for him to try and answer their questions as well as he could, he figured.

"But why?"

"Because I didn't go when I was 11 like you."

"Why not?"

"I wasn't living here when I was 11."

"Where were you?"

"Let's see…" Ryou mused, thinking. "I was in... France then?"

"Did you have gone to Beauxbatons? My big sister said that there was another school in France for wizards to go to."

"Oh, I wasn't there for long. I moved to Belgium after a month or two," Ryou said with another smile, not sure what Beauxbatons was, though he thought it was a fairly safe guess that it was another school. "I move all the time. I've just come back temporarily. I've been living in Japan for a while, actually..."

"Wow!" all the kids said, or at least some variation thereof.

"Can you speak Japanese?" another asked.

"Of course I can," Ryou said, letting the foreign words slip easily from his lips. "I can also speak a little Arabic. My French is awful though..."

That garnered a few laughs before it cut off abruptly with the appearance of a severe-looking woman. "That will be quite enough," she told them. "It is time for the sorting to begin." Ryou found a place for himself at the tail-end of the line the others formed as they were guided into the Great Hall.

It was absolutely gorgeous. Candles floated high above his head, casting wavering light evenly across the room. The ceiling was spun from a dense cloud cover that looked like the outside sky, scattered stars and all. Four long tables full of excitedly chatting students filled the room, all pointing up to the long table set up from the other four.

This table was quite obviously set aside for teachers, as he could make out Snape and Dumbledore seated up there. The woman from the boats was sitting up there, as well as a woman in an atrocious pink cardigan.

Finally they stopped walking, standing together at the front of the hall. By this time, every one of the students had paused their previous conversations, their attentions to the front. There were many, many eyes directed at him. He didn't like being the center of attention, but he was at least used to standing in front of a student body. He'd introduced himself to so many classes, had he wanted to count them on his hands, he'd need many more fingers. There were a few more people than there usually was, but it wasn't _that_ much different, was it?

The woman who had brought them here set a stool and a tattered old hat in front of everyone. Everyone fell silent, staring intently at that hat. Ryou was certain he could have heard a pin drop. And then the hat split open and what looked like a mouth appeared in the folds of voluminous fabric. A song poured forth from that mouth, leaving Ryou to wonder where the hat's vocal cords were.

The song itself consisted of a story, one that neatly summed up the history of the school. As the tale went, the four founders were all great friends who decided to create a school for magic. They all had differing opinions as to who to teach, so they simply divided the school into four houses. Eventually, though, the houses began to turn on each other. The fighting lasted all the way until Slytherin left, and it seemed that ever since then, Gryffindor and Slytherin had been rivals.

Ryou really hoped that Luna's question had been answered during the song, because it made quite a bit of sense to him. But the song hadn't ended at the fascinating history lesson. The hat had also gone on and given everyone a message, and Ryou was left to wonder if this message was included every year. Because the hat had said that Hogwarts was in danger, and that they needed to unite or they would crumble. That certainly didn't sound like something the hat said every time it sang, especially with the whispered remarks being exchanged across the room.

Professor McGonagall wasn't the type of person to allow people to talk over her, however, and as she approached the head of the hall she threw the students a shriveling, scorching glance before drawing out a long list of names.

"Abercrombie, Euan."

A frightened-looking boy stumbled up to the stool and put the hat on his head. The hat adopted a considering expression for a moment before the brim ripped open again and shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Applause rang through the crimson and gold Gryffindor table as the frightened boy sank into a seat. Names continued to be read, and Ryou's name was completely glossed over. He stood there feeling incredibly out of place as the shield of first years that had somewhat hidden him began to thin. The final name belonged to the tiny little girl who had assisted in his interrogation, "Zeller, Rose", who was sorted into Hufflepuff.

He did his best to ignore the many looks he was receiving as Dumbledore rose to his feet. "Thank you, Professor," he said, giving McGonagall an acknowledging tilt of the head. "And now, I would like to present our new transfer student, who will be joining our fifth-year class, Ryou Bakura!"

Smatterings of confused applause echoed through the Great Hall. No doubt about it, this school didn't get many transfers.

Ryou stepped nervously up to the stool, taking a seat as thousands of eyes followed his every move. And then everyone vanished as the ratty old hat was placed low over Ryou's eyes.

"My, my, aren't you an interesting fellow. I've sorted people with multiple personalities before, but never one quite like _you_," a voice said from inside of Ryou's head. For many, a strange voice like that would be cause for panic. For Ryou, it posed only as an unwelcome intrusion.

Ryou frowned. /_I don't have multiple personalities!/_

Bakura echoed the sentiment by laughing loudly. /I'm not him and he's not me/ he said, barely able to speak through his chortling.

"I see..." the hat mused.

With a start, Bakura realized that the hat, too, was digging through their minds. However, he was much more adept at picking out what he needed than Voldy-whatsit (/_Voldemort_/ Ryou corrected) was, and was out before Bakura could say or do a thing about it.

"Where one soul ends, the other begins. Complete opposites."

/Tell me something I don't know.../

"You are arrogant but clever, prime Slytherin or Ravenclaw territory," he said, giving Bakura a stern look before turning to Ryou, "While you are considerate and loyal, willing to do anything for your friends. You'd fit easily into Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, which I see you're rather desperate to join in order to stay with your friends. I'm sure of it- you two clearly do not belong in the same house."

/Sort hikari, then. It's his body/ Bakura said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Ah, but it's not that easy. I have to take both of you into consideration."

/_If I could make your job easier, I'd be fine with just going to Hufflepuff. I know I might not be brave enough for Gryffindor_/ Ryou reasoned, sending the hat the sweetest smile he could.

/Hikari, if you want something, you just take it. Don't say what we all know you don't really want. How many times do I have to tell you this?/ Bakura chastised, and Ryou directed the best glower he could muster to Bakura without actually moving his facial muscles.

/_As many as I have to remind you that you can't just take everything you want_/ Ryou said simply.

/I know that. You have know how to get it, too. You can't just walk into a store and take something, someone will catch you. You have to know how to hide it/

/_You know that isn't what I meant!_/

Bakura only chuckled.

For a moment the hat was silent, contemplating. "You know, many Slytherins and Gryffindors believe themselves superior to each other, when the truth is that they are far more similar than most know. Salazar and Godric were friends, you know, before they went their separate ways. They valued many of the same qualities."

/And that means?/

"It's much the same with you two. There is no reason for you to get along, and in fact it would appear that you hadn't for many years. And yet, you do now. There is a camaraderie between you just as I wish for one to grow between the two houses. Your family and your, what do you call him, yami?, pulls you to Slytherin, while your duty and friends pull you to Gryffindor. Perhaps you could heal the rift between the two houses..." the hat mused inside Ryou's head.

/_Exactly_/ Ryou sighed with a grateful smile. Gryffindor, here he came.

Finally, the hat's wide brim split open and began to speak aloud. "Better be-"

Ryou peeked out under the hat as best he could without moving much, noticing how people were snapping their heads up to the hat as if they'd been sitting there for a while, bored. He smiled broadly. Oh yes, here it came...

"SLYTHERIN!"

YES! Wait, what? The smile fell from Ryou's face. He blinked rapidly at the crowd. To his right, a sea of green and silver were clapping loudly. The faces of his friends were watching him warily.

/_What do you mean Slytherin?!_/ he thought quickly.

"A pureblood like you? You're far more manipulative than you know. And Slytherins, disloyal as they may be, are known for strong alliances with each other. Your bond with your dark half is proof enough that you belong among them," he explained silently.

/_But- but, this has to be a mistake-_/

"I never make mistakes. You are destined for greatness in a way you'll never expect. Your house awaits," the hat said aloud as he was lifted from Ryou's head. He stood on shaky legs, making his way over to the beaming face of his cousin, who had a decidedly smug air about his person. Harry and his friends were stanch rivals of Slytherin. How would he do his job now?

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**Let's see a show of reviews here, whaddaya think of Slytherin!Ryou? Canon? Strange? Pudding?**

**Wait, was that last one...? Never mind. Forget I said anything.**

**Also, I will be sans computer for the next week, so that will make replying to you difficult. Bear with me, please! I promise I _will _reply to all of them. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Soooo... One hundred reviews? Yeah, all I can say about that is simply 'HOEMAHGAWD, I FUCKING LOVE YOU GUYS'. Does that work? Because I have no way of properly telling you people how amazing you all are other than that. I don't have any words that truly measure up to the sheer level of awe that I'm in right now. I never expected to get a hundred reviews, let alone in only nine chapters. This has been the greatest five months ever, and the best part is that it still isn't over yet. Not fully sure what all is going to happen for a while, but let's hope that you guys enjoy this one as much as you've seemed to like those chapters! **

**Anyway, there is so little unbiased information on Slytherin out there... I'm basically going off of the little Pottermore house letter and how the Slytherins would probably think act. If I have something seriously wrong, blame the internet. Also, let me know? I like knowing when I say something wrong so I don't keep being wrong. **

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"Slytherin!" The word boomed over and over in his head as he walked. A chorus of it washed over him. Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin.

The walk to Slytherin table felt more like the descent to hell than joining his house, and his feet felt reluctant to cross the room. Eyes followed him as he sat heavily beside his smirking cousin.

"Ryou! So glad you could join us," Draco said, his voice oozing a sense of superiority that hadn't been there in such vast amounts when first they had met. Much of his persona seemed to change around his friends, a front put up to make him seem important to others.

"Yes," Ryou said quietly. "About the train-"

"Forget about it," Draco said with a smirk. "You're a Slytherin now, and Slytherins always have each others' backs. Now we have a chance to prove to you that everything you've probably heard about us from those ignorant lions over there is a lie. Isn't that right, boys?"

"Yeah!" two portly boys echoed, one on either side of Ryou and Draco.

No more was said as everyone fell silent, a standing Dumbledore awaiting a chance to talk. "To our newcomers," he began, "welcome!" To our old hands- welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

An appreciative laugh echoed through the room with an outbreak of applause. Food appeared as he sat down, simply popping out of nowhere and leaving the tables groaning under the weight of the many dishes. The other Slytherins were already digging in, piling plates high with chops and roasted potatoes.

"So what was the hat talking to you about? Sorting you took almost five minutes," Draco snorted into his steamed vegetables. "What house were you tied with?"

"Er... well, all of them, kinda," he admitted. Indirectly, he had, but he didn't mention that. "So what is Slytherin like?" Ryou asked, changing the subject as he cut into his piece of meat slowly.

"You heard the hat singing, didn't you? Those with pure ancestry belong here," a girl said, smiling at him in a way Ryou wasn't sure he liked. "Pansy Parkinson," she said, sticking out a hand across the table.

"Ryou Bak-"

"We already know. Malfoy told us all about _you,_" a boy to Pansy's left said. "Blaise Zambini. And you'd better not be hanging around with any more Gryffindors, if you know what's good for you."

"Relax, Zambini, I'm sure Ryou was just in the wrong carriage at the wrong time. Isn't that right, Ryou?" Draco asked silkily, a slight warning in his tone.

Ryou, picking up on it, nodded vigorously. "Y-yes. I didn't know where else to go," he lied.

"See? Not a problem," Draco told the others. They all seemed taken in immediately. Of course, Malfoy had no reason to lie to them, did he?

They finished eating, Ryou picking at his pudding quietly and listening as the others chatted about what they did over the summer. As bellies filled and the noise level began creeping up again, Dumbledore stood up again and let silence fall.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," Dumbledore began. "First years ought to know that the forest is out of bounds to students- and a few of our older students out to know by now too."

At this Draco smirked, as if recalling something amusing.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door."

"Like that's stopping anyone," Draco muttered to the amusement of some of the other Slytherins.

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Unenthusiastic applause rang through the room. Pansy looked gleeful. "Looks like that fat oaf isn't here this year," she said.

"Excellent," Draco said, looking equally delighted.

"Excuse me, but who would you be talking about?" Ryou asked.

"His name's Hagrid," Zambini grumbled. "Worst teacher in the school. At least you can sleep in Binn's class..."

"Why is he so bad?"

"He's always bringing these awful creatures to class..." Millicent groaned.

"Remember that time that Hippogriff attacked you, Draco?" Pansy asked.

Draco pulled a face.

Dumbledore, however, hadn't stopped talking. "Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the-"

"_Hem, hem,_" the toad-like woman in florid pink said, and Ryou realized with some difficulty that she was actually standing, as she was hardly taller than she was when sitting. Dumbledore graciously sat as if he would have liked nothing more than to listen to her talk, but the others in the hall were all in varying states of shock.

"Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome." The woman gave another of the fluffy, throat-clearing coughs and continued to talk, her voice breathy and little-girlish. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And such happy little faces looking back at me! I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

"Does she think we're three?" Pansy shrieked under her breath.

After another clearing of her throat, she spoke with a much more business-like tone. The speech was significantly less fluffy than earlier.

Even the most diligent listeners tuned her out after a while, even Ryou. Most people paid her words very little mind, and Ryou found his eyes rolling over to Harry, Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. As far as he could see, the Gryffindors were paying about as much attention to the speech as he was, Hermione excepted. She had her eyes glued to the woman in pink, and unlike the others in similar positions, her eyes weren't glazed over, unfocused.

Ryou wasn't one to be rude, and he would have listened, but it was tough to do. Her words floated in one ear and out the other.

But dinner flew by, regardless of the new professor, Umbridge. Finally people began to stand and leave the tables. Draco and Pansy stood and walked to the head of the table.

"Where are you going?" Ryou asked nervously, not wanting to be left behind with the two overlarge boys that were Draco's cronies. Though supposedly being in the same house made them 'family', he couldn't help but wonder just how close-knit this particular family was. He'd heard some awful things about the house, after all.

"I'm a prefect," Malfoy said, sounding as if he wasn't quite as satisfied about it as he was before. "I have to lead the first-years down to the common room." Perhaps he enjoyed the perks more than the responsibilities.

"Oh..." Ryou said softly.

"You're supposed to come, too, you know. You're technically a first-year, too," Draco mentioned, and Ryou brightened immediately. "Come on, I'll show you the the way," he said before continuing to bellow, "First-years this way! This way to Slytherin common room!"

Draco studiously watched as a crowd of nervous eleven-year-old's gathered around him, lost and unknowing about protocol. When kids stopped appearing, Pansy and Draco began walking the kids plus Ryou to a revolving stairwell. When Ryou said revolving, he did mean revolving- the stairs were _moving_.

And then he caught a passing glimpse of Ron and Hermione. That hadn't seemed to notice him, climbing up with a group of their own eleven-year-old's. He wondered for a second why all of them were cautiously skipping the same step when one of them failed to leap up, and he sunk to his knee in the stair. A couple others helped him out, laughing nervously as all small children do when uncomfortable.

He looked back to the prefects of his own house, who were laughing somewhat coldly at the same scene Ryou had just witnessed. They led the group down, rather than up, the stairs, and soon the Gryffindors were out of sight.

"Alright, kiddies, Slytherin common room is down in the dungeons," Pansy began dryly. "The dungeons are huge, so don't get lost. The Bloody Baron isn't big on helping first-years like you most of the time. You lot always ask why he's all bloody and he doesn't like that."

"Snape's class is down in the dungeon, though, which makes getting to early morning double potions much easier," Malfoy added.

"What else were we supposed to say?" Pansy whispered to Draco, who shrugged and led the way through a secret passage to a huge, green-tinged panel set deep into the stone wall. The shape was arched like a doorway, but lacked any notable features of a door. It was just a slab of wood, lacking any hinges or handles or any other signifying marks.

"Draught of Peace," Draco said, and a silver set of hinges and a gilded silver handle materialized where they should. "The door is protected by a password, which changes every fortnight. Remember to check the noticeboard for that and..."

"And don't tell other houses the password! None of the other houses have entered this place in more than seven centuries, and we aren't about to let that happen now," Pansy added.

"I think that's everything," Draco said, grasping the handle. There was a collective intake of breath as he pulled the door open.

After all of the straggling first years blocking their path had gone inside, Pansy and Draco entered the room, Ryou following close behind. Now that he had stepped inside, there was nothing stopping his stifled gasp.

Being so far underground and close to the lake, Ryou had been expecting it to be dank and dreary. It was quite the contrary. The stone walls were decorated with what could only be notable ex-Slytherins. A tapestry emblazoned with the name 'Merlin' and picturing a scowling, grey-bearded man made Ryou wonder if he was looking at _the_ Merlin of muggle fame.

Above his head, silver lanterns lit up a large number of low backed green and black couches that were scattered around thick, cozy rugs. Fires cackled merrily from their silver braziers, throwing up a feeling of warmth around the room. A number of Slytherins were lounging around the room, many of them filling the chairs and chatting easily.

"Come on, Ryou, I bet they put you in our room. We've had an extra bed in there for years," Draco said, beckoning to Ryou.

He climbed up to the boy's dormitory, following Draco. The room itself was welcoming. More of the silver lanterns clung like gilded flowers to the ceiling, throwing light on four-poster beds hung with green silk. A window in the room displayed a sweeping, undersea vista. Waves lapped at the walls, echoing peacefully. His new steamer trunk was laid out beside a neatly-made bed.

Inside, Zambini, Crabbe, and Goyle were already unpacking their cases. Blaise was already unpacked, finishing with the last folded pile of robes. With a small wave, he went down to the main area to talk with the others.

As soon as he was gone, Draco turned to Ryou, his tone thoroughly business-like. "So, Ryou, where's Bakura gone?"

"He's... somewhere, I'm sure," Ryou replied in a measured tone.

"You know, I still don't know anything about him. For one, just who is he? Friend, long lost relative?"

"He's just a friend."

Malfoy nodded slowly for a moment, as if letting it sink in. "Tell me, Ryou, is Bakura human?" he asked casually, placing a neatly folded tie into a drawer by the bed.

Clunk! The loud, abrasive sound of Ryou's pewter cauldron striking the floor echoed through the room. A twitch of his hand had knocked it from the relative safety of the steamer trunk.

"W-what makes you say that?" Ryou asked, trying to make his shoulders stop shaking with evident surprise. Bakura was laughing from inside of the soul room.

"Well, mostly its from what my father told me about what happened the day you left."

"What did he say?"

"From what I heard, Bakura just appeared out of nowhere and stopped the Cruciatus Curse. I didn't believe him at first, of course, but he did vanish just before you did, and he didn't make a sound. Appariting is noisy, you know. And normal people don't just grab spells out of thin air."

"Well, you see-"

"And just how did he do that thing with the card game? I felt awful after that game. What did he do? Is he some sort of solid ghost? A banshee?"

Ryou fell dead silent. His chest shook once, and the corner of one lip curled slowly. Ryou began to laugh. He laughed and laughed and laughed, and Bakura laughed right along with him.

"What? What's so funny?"

Ryou continued to laugh, but as he wiped away tears of mirth, the chuckles began to subside.

"It's just, no one's ever called Bakura a banshee before," he said, giggles still periodically slipping out. An invisible, laughing Bakura materialized into a more solid form.

"Hikari, your cousin is clever!" Bakura cackled.

"You speak English!" Malfoy said, sounding surprised.

"Yeah, the English is new," Bakura quipped, smirking.

"W-where did he come from?" Crabbe asked suddenly.

"Yeah, and what's going on?" Goyle added.

Ryou whipped his head up. To be honest, Ryou had completely forgotten they were there, so silently they had been unpacking. Both Crabbe and Goyle looked paler than before. But Draco only shook his head.

"You can trust Crabbe and Goyle," Malfoy said. "They won't tell anyone. So what's really going on?"

Ryou gave Bakura a small, sidelong glace, but the spirit had already begun examining the room. He took the blow-off as a sign he was fine to continue.

"Well, basically, Bakura's a... how old? Three thousand?"

"Five," Bakura corrected absently, examining Zambini's ties with a look of disdain.

"Yes, five thousand year old spirit who-"

"Hikari, please say you don't have to wear this ungodly thing every day," Bakura said before Ryou could add any more, glaring at the silver and green fabric.

"I think I do?" Ryou said slowly.

"Damn!" Bakura growled. "Green looks awful on us."

"I've been meaning to ask you that- why does he look just like you?"

Ryou shrugged. "It's complicated."

"And how did he do all of that... shadow stuff?"

"That's... complicated, too."

"What isn't complicated?" Draco asked, sounding frustrated.

Bakura turned a leery eye on Ryou's cousin. "You bear no connection whatsoever to the shadow mages, other than Ryou. Consider yourself lucky you know what you do."

"That means Bakura doesn't want to tell you any more," Ryou informed his cousin.

"Ra, I feel like everyone wants to know everything about me. So annoying. I blame you, hikari. Now about this ungodly thing," Bakura continued.

Ryou smiled. "That's a tie, Bakura. And yes, I'm wearing it."

Draco only frowned. "I still don't understand what's going on."

Bakura waved his hands through the air in a circular motion, saying, "And you never will, if you know what's good for you."

The confusion lingered for only the barest of moments. A smirk spawned on Draco's sallow face. "That sounded almost like a threat," he pointed out.

"You'd better believe it," Bakura said distractedly, settling cross-legged on Ryou's bed. "As for Porky and Pudgy over there," he began, inclining his head towards Crabbe and Goyle, whose spines stiffened immediately in fear at being singled out, "Make sure they don't tell anyone about me. I dislike unneeded attention. Secrecy is... preferable."

"You'll make an excellent Slytherin," Draco said, his lips curling ever higher in satisfaction. Ryou could feel his throat constrict. Just his luck- his darkness and his cousin were going to end up doing something before the year was up, and it would be he who took the fall for it.

Bakura smirked and stood. "Of course I will. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm supposed to be meeting the Bloody Baron in the astronomy tower. Apparently there's a troublesome poltergeist he wants to introduce me to," he said, and the glint of a single fang tooth could be seen in the dim light as he vanished.

"Why didn't you just tell me about Bakura in the first place?" Draco asked.

Ryou stared at the floor. "Well, I don't know if you'd believe it, but Bakura doesn't usually let himself be known. He's... kinda secretive."

"I get that, but if you two never tell anyone, why are you just explaining everything to me?"

"Well," Ryou began, smiling a little, "you're my cousin. Family. And you already had it half figured out, anyway. I guess... It's just nice to have family again, and no secrets."

"No secrets," Malfoy agreed.

Ryou sighed and glanced out of the window. A wisp of gray flickered past the window, undulating through the water like the over-large tentacle of a giant squid. Actually, Ryou thought it was the tentacle of the giant squid. The greenish cast to the room was soothing on his eyes, and the soft sound of lapping waves lulled him to exhaustion.

"I'm tired. I think I'm going to go to bed," Ryou mused sleepily, green eyes landing lazily on the rich fourposter bed.

"Alright," Draco replied, stooping low and digging through his almost-empty trunk for a moment. He stood and stuffed a hand in his pocket. "I'm going down to the common room for a while."

"Good night, Draco," Ryou said softly, pulling a pair of pajamas from his own trunk.

"Night."

But Draco didn't stop in the common room. He made his way straight out the door, the hand never leaving his pocket as he walked up the stairs to the owlery. He didn't want to risk having the jar of ink leak onto the roll of parchment, after all. He had a letter to his father to write, and it wouldn't do to have it ruined. No secrets, indeed.

* * *

**Let's see how quickly we can hit two hundred C; Also, can I get a show of reviews here- how many of you want to see Bakura meet Peeves, and how many think it will just be needless, albeit amusing, filler? Just a mini-poll!**


	11. Chapter 11

**For the record, and I did research on this, the Bloody Baron does talk. He just doesn't talk to the other ghosts much. Harry once impersonated the Baron from under the cloak and Peeves went running. Proof. He's just upset because he fell in love with Helena Ravenclaw, a love that wasn't reciprocated, and when she stole the diadem and fled to Albania, he went after her and ended up committing murder/suicide. He wears chains as penitence for this.**

**Also, Peeves is a bitch to write.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The castle was a thing of beauty. Anyone could have seen it, plain as day. Of course, much of that beauty was hidden under layers of magic. It took a practiced thief to see many of its secrets. And there was where Bakura excelled. As many mysteries as were in the Ancient Egyptian tombs, and perhaps more, even, were hidden away, secrets locked up in the hopes that just the right person would find them and revive them. And that person was going to be Bakura.

As Bakura drifted silently in search of a ghost who went by the name of the Bloody Baron, he found himself caught up in fantasies of the fabulous treasures that were no doubt hidden away. Intangibility allowed him to drift, unseen, though students and walls alike (not that there was any difference between the two, at least to him). He moved leisurely, taking the time to glance into each empty room in turn before continuing on. He didn't have a clue as to which of the towering spires were designated to astronomy, a worthwhile class in Bakura's opinion, nor was he too worried about it. He'd get there eventually.

Shouldn't all ghosts be well aware of the concept of patience, anyway? With all of eternity stretched out before them, one would think they could could handle a couple of hours while Bakura explored.

He lifted up slowly, allowing his ethereal form to drift upwards through the ceiling. Had he mentioned he loved being invisible? Because that was one of his favorite parts. It made eavesdropping a breeze.

As it turned out, just as hikari had a 'common room' in his 'house', so did those Gryffindors. There was no mistaking it, as there was no other function this room could have served. The decorating was done in the same brilliant crimsons and golds that made up every piece of house-specific clothing Harry, Ron, and Hermione owned. Of course, it also helped that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting by the fire, talking quietly between themselves. Bakura leaned in closer, instinctively curious of their hushed tones.

"I told you he was suspicious. I knew it all along!" Ron said. "I thought there was something off about him from the moment I met him!" Hermione's answering glare was fit to kill. Ron didn't seem to notice. "I mean, blimey, the bloke's a Slytherin! They're the worst you can get!"

"Glad to know you knew it all along," Hermione said dryly. "So tell me, what do you make of his secret now? You know, the secret he said he wouldn't tell anyone?"

"I don't see why it matters," Harry replied petulantly, throwing an acidic glance at another boy, who leered back.

"Harry, I know you're upset, but taking it out on Seamus isn't going to change anything," Hermione said, patting his arm.

Harry sighed. "Yeah, maybe. I just- I don't know. Maybe the secret was just that he was Malfoy's cousin?"

"I don't think so," Hermione said. "His name was on the wall next to Malfoy's. There was no way he could have hidden that. It has to be something else."

"Maybe he's secretly as big of a git as his cousin..." Ron muttered. Bakura snorted in amusement, going unheard.

"He did do all of our homework," Harry mentioned, sounding slightly guilty. "Why would he do that?"

"He's obviously nicer than I am," Hermione said with just a trace of acidity. "You should have done it yourselves."

"Aww, come on, 'Mione! You don't want us to fail before class even starts, do you?" Ron asked.

Hermione grimaced. "He still shouldn't have done it. I just wish I knew why he did, though! He doesn't make sense!"

"He is a Slytherin," Ron said bitterly. "I bet he's been working with the Malfoys and You-Know-Who all along."

Bakura glanced back at Harry, who had contributed little to the conversation. Why was the Potter boy so frustrated? Obviously his anger wasn't directed at Hikari, but then, who was it focused towards?

Perhaps another member of his house. It seemed likely. The Slytherins seemed to be at least loyal to one another. The way one of the boys, Bakura remembered the name 'Neville', seemed to be getting teased, there was obviously less loyalty here. That they would argue amongst each other was likely.

Harry just stared into the fire moodily, and Bakura decided he didn't care much for the boy. Such silly things to get angry about, especially when there was worse in this world.

Bakura took one last look around, committing the layout of the room to memory, and drifted silently out of the room. Lingering in the wrong tower would accomplish nothing. The door appeared to be nothing more than a picture of a fat lady. Clever. The picture was one of those odd, moving portraits that could speak and be spoken to. A spoken password caused her to swing forward and allow entry. Bakura smirked softly to himself. Interesting.

There was only a few towers left to check, and so Bakura made his way to yet another without too many pit stops. As he broke the surface of the top-most floor, he found himself on a flat, open surface rather than another room. He would have said he was on the roof, but no shingles or roofing tiles covered the ground inches below his feet. It was only the same cool stone making up the rest of the castle.

Bakura set his feet solidly on the stone, staring upwards. Every constellation was perfectly visible, strange because he'd had troubles seeing anything anywhere else in this time. Pollution had clotted the skies and dimmed the stars. But not here. Somehow magic had made it possible to see the stars as brightly as he'd seen them in Egypt.

With his naked eye, he could pick out the constellation Osiris, renamed Orion in this particular century. Three twinkling stars connected to form the midsection and made it the first thing he could easily find.

"You certainly took your time," the Baron said. His voice was deep and pensive, and Bakura smirked as he turned around.

"Just looking around. Is that a crime?"

"It isn't. So long as your fingers aren't sticky."

A small chuckle bubbled from Bakura's chest. "Personal experience?"

"One could say that," the Baron replied hollowly, and the chains he wore rattled once. "Peeves, come on out."

"Y-yes, Mr. Bloody Baron, sir." A garishly clothed man corkscrewed out of the floor, his tone fearful. He was far more colorful than the other ghosts Bakura had seen, although he had only ever spoken to the Baron. The other ghosts avoided the Slytherin table like the plague.

Still, Peeves's reputation preceded him. The colorful poltergeist was known for causing mischief and mass mayhem, and that interested the spirit.

"Peeves, this is Bakura," the Baron intoned.

Bakura's grin faded. "So you're the sniveling poltergeist the Baron told me about," he said, dropping his voice to an intimidating bass.

The Baron's eyes narrowed at Peeves, as if daring the ghoul to say something.

And then Bakura smiled. Not a polite smile, of course. It was a cold, ruthless smile that was amused at what it saw. "I've heard a bit about you, Peeves. I hear you cause problems. I hear you pester students, teachers, and ghosts alike."

"Y-yes," Peeves began.

"I want in."

"What?" the Bloody Baron said, sounding surprised.

Bakura laughed. The haunting bass was gone, to be replaced by Bakura's usual roughed velvet tone. "Sorry, Baron, but I happen to enjoy screwing people over. It makes the centuries shorter."

Peeves cackled aloud, pleased by the turn of events. "'Kura's gone and done it, that spirit did he! Now Peevsie's got a buddy and the Baron's gone crazy!"

"There's just one condition..." Bakura said.

Peeves drew up short. "What?"

"There are a few people I need to make sure we get, and a few you aren't to touch. Do you think you can handle it?"

"Peevsie doesn't take orders from nobody!" the poltergeist retorted petulantly.

"Ah, but that's the thing. I'm not just 'nobody'. I'm Bakura, and I will have my way. Unless you'd like a permanent 'vacation' from the castle, of course?" Bakura offered.

"You couldn't!" Peeves said, pulling a face.

Bakura smirked, letting lapping waves of shadows fall over them and drown them in the darkness. A strange howling filled the airless vacuum of the shadow realm. Peeves's spine jolted stick-straight in terror, and the Baron quirked up an eyebrow in curiosity.

"As I said, I will have my way. Got it?"

"Perfectly," Peeves said through chattering teeth. The shadows fell way, leaving them back on the tower. The moment the icy chill, palpable even to the ghosts, was gone, Peeves flew off.

"That went... well," the Baron said, and Bakura wasn't sure if it were sarcasm or not. The Baron didn't strike him as the type. Still, Bakura was content.

"That it did," he said. The smirk never left his face. "I've decided that having cooperative subjects must require a mixture of fear and respect. I'm sure you understand that, seeing as how Peeves is terrified of you, too." The Baron hummed approvingly.

If there was one thing Bakura knew, it was that having allies amongst the undead could be very helpful.

Keeping Peeves away from Hikari with the expectation of him likewise pranking whomsoever Bakura needed him to was just one convenient aspect. Small things could work just as well to cause discord as big things. It just took more of them. As for the Baron, he kept Peeves in line and thus, Bakura needed him to ensure that things fell as he wanted. If something needed to happen, it could. The other ghosts, however, struck him as peaceful sops. They'd be more tedious to deal with. Still, it probably needed to be done.

He bid the Baron adieu. The ghost had already informed him that this was his favorite haunt, and he usually spent his time wandering around the tower anyway. If he ever needed anything, he just had to drop by.

Bakura grinned again as he passed a large, fancy-looking clock hung on the wall. Its face bore a sleeping expression, with two droopy eyes that were closed and a mouth that emitted soft sighs with each passing second. Hands sprung forth from the nose and told the time. There was plenty of night left, enough so for Bakura to finish his exploring. He still hadn't found the Hufflepuff's common room on his hunt, after all, and there was still an awful lot of castle left to traverse. Naturally curious, he set off at once.

Maybe he'd find Peeves again, too...

* * *

Ryou woke that morning to darkness. He lurched upright, wondering where he was in a panic. Only when his rapid breath had slowed and his whirling green eyes settled on the closed hangings surrounding his bed did he remember where he was. Hogwarts. He was going to school. _For magic_. He wrenched back the hangings excitedly, a huge smile on his face.

It was real! He was actually here! A disturbing dream last night had kept him thrashing in his sleep and turning restlessly. He didn't even want to think about it, but blessedly, the startling clarity of it was fading already.

The dream itself had been awful and strange, starting in the same place that the boggart-nightmare had. Bodies were being pitched into golden lava, same as before, but when it was Ryou's turn to fall, something saved him. His savior had no shape, no guise that gave it substance and form. All he knew was that this savior felt utterly foreign to him, as if it were someone he'd never met. It was something different and he didn't know what to think about it.

Still, that was behind him. He had to put one foot in front of the other and not look back. No sirree, he wasn't going to spend his time lingering on dreams that made his stomach churn. Especially not when there was so much ahead of him today.

"Do you always moan so much in your sleep?" Draco asked from across the room, where he was donning a tie.

Ryou's eyes widened. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to."

Malfoy shrugged. "Don't worry. Crabbe had nightmares all though his first year. It doesn't matter," he replied casually, offering his cousin a welcoming smile. "Come on, get dressed. It's time for breakfast." A growling in his stomach reminded Ryou that it was time to eat, and he rose from the bed eagerly. Draco turned and headed out, pausing at the doorway of their dormitory just long enough to glance back. "Come on down to the Great Hall when you're ready. Everyone else is gone already."

Ryou looked around. He was the only one left in the room. His cousin had just left. He reached into a set of drawers, pulling out black robes that had been trimmed in silver and green since he last saw them. Strange. When did that happen? He dug for one of the emerald ties, starting when a hand feel heavily on his shoulder.

"How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me?" Ryou hissed at the semi-translucent Bakura, still shaking slightly.

"Probably as many times as I've done it, give or take," Bakura replied saucily. His expression darkened, seeing the tie in Ryou's hand.

Ryou only rolled his eyes, placing it around his neck and doing it up until it settled comfortably at his throat. "It's a tie, not a noose. Relax, yami," he murmured as he did so. "So what's up with you? You seem... disturbingly happy today."

Bakura grinned, as though the smile was reluctant to leave his lips for long. "Just something that should be funny to watch."

"What did you do?" Ryou asked sternly, his face disapproving.

"Tut tut, all in due time. Now put that cloak on. Uraeus is starving and I haven't eaten anything in days."

"You're a spirit, you don't have to eat," Ryou said insolently, pulling the robes over his shoulders.

Bakura made a face. "Doesn't mean I don't like to."

Ryou smiled softly to himself, holding out an arm to Uraeus. He glanced at the little green serpent as it vanished up his sleeve. It didn't repulse him near as much as it once had. He still didn't enjoy taking care of the snake (especially since it enjoyed back talking and ate far more than a foot-long snake ever should), but at least it hadn't bitten him since that first night. Ryou had to let that count for something.

He made his way briskly into the Great Hall, doing his best to ignore the stares he received. Every school was curious about transfers, and Ryou hadn't exactly expected that part of it to be any different from any other school. What was different was that he'd somehow ended up with the 'bad kids' before he (or at least Bakura) even did anything. Still, as he decided this morning, he wasn't going to let that get to him. He was going to keep pressing forward today, like any other day of his life.

He sat down beside a smirking Draco who was spreading a thick layer of jam onto a slice of toast.

"Hikari, look!" Bakura whispered, pointing up at the door. Ryou glanced up, following the finger to where Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood with another girl, her hair done up in braids. Above them hovered a wisp of color.

"What's that?" Ryou asked aloud to no one in particular. Draco looked over, landing on the trio immediately. It didn't take him much longer to spot the color than it did Ryou. An even broader smile cut into his peaky face.

"That's Peeves, the resident poltergeist," he said, chuckling softly.

Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle all looked up, curious. Dark smiles of their own spawned across the table.

"Poltergeist? As in, ghosts that cause mischief and mayhem?"

"One and the same," Blaise said. "Looks like Peeves has something planned for Potty and co. today."

Only moments after the words left Zambini's mouth, a barrage of water balloons began plummeting from the sky. All of them seemed to be emanating from the wisp of color that had solidified into a strange little man in brightly colored clothes. It was almost exclusively Gryffindors that were hit, receiving the brunt of the tidal wave. A few errant balloons, however, had soaked a couple of Ravenclaw girls who were quick to cast a self-drying spell.

All around them, Slytherin table roared with laughter at the sight of the soaked Gryffindors. Ryou watched as they groaned when Hermione cast a similar spell on her friends, drying the water from their clothes and hair. Puddles, however, remained below their feet and covered the floor. Ron shook his fist angrily at Peeves, who was cackling above it all.

Bakura howled with laughter from beside Ryou, invisible to all.

/_Was this your doing?_/ Ryou chided, trying not to glance in Bakura's direction.

/Perhaps/ Bakura mused. He leaned in closer. /You have to admit, it is hilarious/

Ryou glanced up again, seeing no real damage done except perhaps soaked undergarments and the loss of some dignity. He did crack a small smile. No harm, no foul, right? There wasn't anything to feel guilty about, except, perhaps, that Bakura might have influenced Peeve's decision a little. But nobody ever got hurt from a water balloon. Ryou giggled softly to himself for the smallest of moments.

"Oh, look, the post's here," Blaise remarked. Ryou looked back at Zambini, following his gaze back up into the air, away from the door.

He couldn't suppress a gasp as parliaments of owls swooped into the hall. Around them, the owls dived and dropped packages and slips of paper. It was a sight to behold, especially since he'd never seen so many owls in one place before in his life. A tawny bird with massive golden eyes and tufted feathers landed on the table between Draco and Ryou, and he recognized it from his brief stint in Malfoy Manor- it was Draco's Eagle Owl, a powerful bird named Noctua.

Two large emerald boxes were tied together with a length of silver ribbon, the bird's fierce talons clutching the shimmery fabric in a vice-like grip more accustomed to wrenching the life out of mice and other woodland rodents. Two envelopes were held in the bird's curving beak.

"Look, it seems Father sent you something as well," Draco said, taking the letters and allowing the bird to wheel back up into the air on silent, deadly wings. One of the letters was addressed to Draco, the other to Ryou. Draco slid a finger under his, popping the seal with ease. Ryou took his own letter slowly, picking at the wax seal that held it shut with a little more trepidation. Inside was a letter composed in the same glittering green ink that embossed the outside, glistening in a way that made it look freshly written.

His eyes skimmed the note, eyebrows quirking up in shock just as his breath caught. His eyes darted between the letter and the boxes that had been left beside a platter of cut fruit.

"It's... it's my birthday today," he said, sounding utterly surprised.

Malfoy smirked over the stack of packages, his fingers tugging at the knot that bound them. The letter, already read in its entirety, was stuffed back inside of its parchment envelope. "You didn't forget your own birthday, did you?" he teased gently, sliding one box towards Ryou.

"I guess I did," Ryou muttered to himself.

"By the way, Father says that he's sorry that he couldn't send something better on such short notice, but your real birthday present should show up in a few days."

Ryou's eyes widened further. "He doesn't have to do that," he protested.

"We're family, Ryou, and what kind of family would we be if we didn't at least try to make up for your father's shortcomings? Don't worry, I already know about him being in Egypt all the time. Father, he does important work at the ministry, and he hears strange tales about Egypt all the time. One would hope nothing... happens to him," Draco said. The twist of his lips hadn't moved, but a slightly sinister cast shadowed his face.

Ryou didn't appear to notice. "Well, thank you," he said. Following Draco's suit, he opened the green box. Mounds of sweets filled the insides. His jaw dropped. He'd never seen so much candy. "Is this all for me?" he asked.

"Of course. Mother thought you'd like them."

"Please, tell her I said thanks," Ryou said, smiling at the pile of goodies.

Another owl landed, this one far more noisily than the first, with yet another box. He paid it no more mind than he did the other owls that landed on Slytherin table, at least, until it began to hoot at him in a pestering sort of way. He glanced over at it. It bore similar horned tufts on its head as that of Draco's Noctua, except its color was paler and bore minute traces of dust. The eyes leered at him.

/Why so many pigeons?/ Bakura asked, staring distrustfully at the bird.

/_They aren't pigeons, they're owls_/ Ryou said.

Cautiously, he untied the letter attached to the bird's foot. He hadn't expected to receive any letters today, and yet he'd already gotten two. He wondered if his father had remembered his birthday on time for once, and if perhaps the second box, wrapped in plain brown paper like you'd get in a postal store, was another birthday present. His hopeful smile became a very pleased grin.

No, his father hadn't remembered his birthday, but then, he hadn't really expected him to. The letter and box were from Malik. The mixture of ancient hieroglyphics (which the Yamis preferred to read), English, and Japanese was unmistakably Malik. He could easily imagine his vivacious friend reading the letter aloud to him even from across the world.

_Ryou,_

_If you get this letter, then happy birthday! Let it be known that I am officially the first person to say this to you! And if I'm not, then... pretend I am. Not that it matters, though, because I totally am. I sent this the day before your birthday. If someone beat me, it would just be creepy._

_Anyway, you're probably wondering why I sent this by owl. I told Ishizu about you going to magic school in England, and she told me that sending this through the post wouldn't work, because you wouldn't get it. I don't know why, though. What kind of school only gets mail from birds? It's so weird. I really hope that Horus (the owl) doesn't eat your present. Do you know how hard it is to get these in Egypt? It's impossible! Not to mention the fact that I spent hours trying to figure out how to get it to you. Ishizu may or may not have helped. I'll never tell._

_You'd better like it!_

_Your best friend,_

_Malik Ishtar_

Below it was a post script scrawled in hastily, as if added as an after thought the moment before sending the letter.

_PS If this owl thing doesn't work, I'm going to feel like a moron. I blame Ishizu. Also, Mariku says hi. Not really, but you should pretend he did. _

Ryou glanced over at the box, his fingers tearing into the paper with a sudden eagerness. The paper covered an insulated container packed with some sort of blue gel material that was icy to the touch even after the overnight flight. Another container inside of the chilly configuration had a slightly crumbled bow on top. He pulled the top off of the container, not even attempting to contain the massive grin that covered his face.

Inside of the box sat three perfect pastries and a small, crude drawing of a smiley face that was obviously drawn by Malik. Only he would draw kohl shadows and curls that resembled the wadjet symbol around the eyes. He pulled one out and broke it open on his still-empty plate. Clouds of fragrant, vanilla bean cream filled the fluffy pastry and spilled out.

With a dull hoot, the chatty owl took wing again. "Wait, come back!" Ryou said, but he was ignored. "I was going to send a reply," he murmured to no one in particular.

"I can show you the way to the owlery after classes if you want," Pansy offered, batting her eyelashes.

"Oh, you don't have to do that. I'll just find my way myself later. Thank you though," Ryou replied gently. He took a bite out of the cream puff, humming in delight. It tasted as good as it looked. He closed his eyes to savor the flavor.

"Is it really your birthday?" she asked. He nodded. "Really? And sent you those? A girlfriend, maybe?"

Draco's eyes narrowed slightly, but Ryou wasn't paying attention. He was sputtering on the pastry. "N-no! My friend sent me these. He just knows they're my favorite. I don't know where he got them, though..." he said, tilting his head ponderously at the half-eaten puff. "He lives in Middle of Nowhere, Egypt. The closest town isn't for miles."

"Is he a pureblood, too?" she asked.

Ryou smiled. Malik had Egyptian magic in his family for thousands of years. Compared to the Slytherin's standards, his blood had to be downright spotless. "The purest," he joked.

A subtle shift in attitude accompanied this statement, so tenuous that only Bakura picked up on it. He had it understood in moments, although he left it unsaid. Being a Slytherin was like being in an exclusive club. They'd protect you, they'd have your back, and they'd befriend you, so long as you didn't consort with those whose blood was deemed unpure by anything that wasn't magic. Bakura knew all about exclusive clubs, and he also knew they were good for only so far.

/Hikari, this is a school, is it not? Shouldn't you be having classes soon?/ Bakura remarked.

/_Excited for classes?_/

/Excited to get rid of you/ Bakura replied blandly.

Ryou rolled his eyes, but the question was already in his mind. "When are classes supposed to start?" he asked his cousin.

"Nine," Draco answered. "But we can't go until we get our schedules."

"Where do we get them?"

Draco pointed to Snape, whose sneering face looked down at masses of first years over its large hooked nose. "Snape is the Head of our House, so we get them from him." He finished off the piece of candy he'd been eating before standing, letter and box in hand. "Come on, let's grab out schedules. If we hurry, we can drop these off before class," he said.

Ryou grabbed his own boxes and letter, following Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy and Blaise to where Snape stood with sheaves of paper. Each Slytherin got a similar schedule with only a few differences between them based off of personal preference. Their first class of the day was Divination, a class that thrilled him to no end.

"Don't get too excited. That old bat doesn't know what she's talking about," Draco said as they waited in the North Tower.

Ryou stared at the ground. "I'm sure Professor Trelawney'll be fine..." he muttered, perking up immediately when a silver ladder dropped down to admit them.

He scrabbled up the ladder behind the other Slytherins, the thick scent hitting him like a brick wall. Heavy fumes filled his nose. He and Draco took their respective seats on plush chintz armchairs as a woman draped in heavy shawls entered the room.

"Good day," she said. "And welcome back to Divination. I have, of course, been following your fortunes most carefully over the holidays, and I am delighted to see that you all returned to Hogwarts safely- as, of course, I knew you would. You will find on the tables before you copies of _The Dream Oracle _by Inigo Imago. Dream interpretation is a most important means of divining the future and one that may very probably be tested in your OWL," she said, though she continued on to say that grades were actually irrelevant to true Seeing.

It seemed to Ryou that, given the choice, Professor Trelawney wouldn't have conformed to OWLs in the first place, seeing her subject above such things. Despite this, he was still eager, even as she assigned direction to divine each other's dreams. Until he realized that divining one another's dreams required him dredging up his nightmare again.

Due to it being a double-period class, even after the time Ryou and Draco had the introduction read, there was still far too much time for interpreting their dreams.

"So, that dream that you had last night. What was it?" Draco asked.

Ryou shivered. "You can go first, if you'd like. I really don't remember my dreams," he lied. He tried to keep the dishonesty out of his ever-honest eyes.

/The trick to not blinking too much is to still blink. It's just as suspicious for a liar to not blink as it is for them to blink too much/ Bakura reminded him. /Not that you look people in the eyes often enough for it to be a problem, though/ he conceded.

"Just make it up," Draco said. He didn't appear to notice. "Everyone else does. Nobody actually takes this class seriously."

Ryou sighed. To top the class off, they were assigned a month-long dream diary in which to record all of their dreams. If he had more of the dreams, he would have no choice but to record them. The alternative, of course, being more lying and deceit, which Ryou could never pull off to a teacher.

/How is lying to a teacher any different than lying to anyone else?/ Ryou didn't respond as he went outside, eager to enjoy his break in peace. /Hey, don't ignore me/ Bakura said indignantly.

/_Sorry_/ Ryou muttered internally. /_Hey, where have you been all morning? You left right after breakfast and I haven't heard from you since_/_  
_

/Oh, I've just been exploring a little here and there... I should be finished by tonight/

/_But this castle is huge! How can you explore it all so quickly?_/

/Duh. Spirit? I can drift through walls? And by the way, you wouldn't believe all of the secret passages I've found/

/_Secret passages? What kind of secret passages?_/

/The incredibly-convenient-because-nobody-uses-them kind. Take a left here/ Bakura remarked, turning Ryou's head for him.

/_I'm not going that way. I'm going to go outside_/ Ryou said, but Bakura only stole control of his legs. /_Hey, are you even listening to me?_/

/Of course I am/ Bakura purred. /That's why I'm driving and not you/

Ryou pouted, but watched as the halls emptied the further from the main thoroughfare they got. Soon they were the only ones around. Bakura led Ryou to an ugly-looking statue of a troll and ducked behind it. A small tunnel was hidden away.

/_That's amazing!_/ Ryou cried. /_How did you find it?_/

/Luck, mostly. It does help that I'm me and I'm awesome/ Bakura said, but he sounded satisfied by Ryou's praise nonetheless. They ducked into the tunnel that sloped gracefully downward and found themselves only moments later a hall away from the potion's classroom. /And look, we aren't too far from the common room. I say we go and pick Uraeus up, since you didn't want to bring him to Divination with you/

/_I think not. The more I carry him, the more I think someone's going to see him_/

/You worry too much. Uraeus can take care of himself even if he is seen, which he won't be. You forget he's as old as I am/

Ryou sighed, begrudging his spirit this one thing as he turned back for the common room. Up in his dormitory, he sat down on his bed. Bakura appeared across from him, and the bed springs groaned under the additional weight.

"Bakura!" he hissed, drawing the curtain closed so that no one would see the spirit.

"Relax. This is why I showed myself in the first place, so I don't have to deal with secrecy while I'm in your room. I loathe constant secrecy. It's nice to be solid," Bakura said, flopping back on the bed.

"You're jussst being carelesssss," Uraeus snipped.

Bakura shrugged. "It'll be fine. Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

Ryou shot Bakura a disapproving glace before reaching a hand out of the hangings, blindly feeling under the bed for one of the boxes. He pulled one up and onto his lap. It was the one from Malik, the one with the cream puffs. The gel was still slightly chilly, as were the pastries. Bakura reached out and plucked one of the remaining two from the box.

He took a bite out of it, nodding slowly. "You really have to hand it to the tomb keeper. I honestly would have expected him to just send you one in a box and forget there's cream inside," he said thickly through the dessert.

"Malik wouldn't do that. He's seen me make them enough times to know they have to be refrigerated," Ryou replied, pulling the other out and sinking his teeth into the soft pastry.

Bakura smirked. "You forget he's blond."

"Don't even start with the blond jokes, Mr. White Blond yourself," Ryou replied.

"That's rather cheeky of you, considering we share a hair color," Bakura shot back.

Ryou wrinkled his nose, no good retort coming to mind in that instant. "Yeah, well..." he muttered.

"Well, at least we have excellent taste in dessert," Bakura announced, polishing off the last of his puff. "I'd have preferred a nice, succulent steak that's been lightly seared on either side to seal in the juices, but hey, that's just me."

"That's it, I'm not letting you watch any more Food Network."

"You leave it on. I usually don't feel like fetching the remote to change it," Bakura said defensively.

"For an ancient spirit who's out all night every night feeding his kleptomaniac tendencies, you're actually really lazy. You know that, right?"

"Oh, you noticed? That's the beauty of being dead, light" Bakura hummed. "You gonna finish that?" he asked, pointing to the last morsel in Ryou's hand.

"I was planning on finishing it," he said, frowning. "Why?"

"I haven't eaten in a week, and you've already had one."

Ryou made a face as he forfeited the treat. Bakura: 1; Ryou: 0 for flawless logic. As his yami snapped it up, Ryou glanced at the large silver clock that dominated the room. He leaped from the bed and grabbed his bag, running out the door.

Bakura grinned, following behind in a semi-tangible state. "Oh, I see, you're going to be late," he chuckled. As Ryou ran, he heard a bell that signified that it was time to head to class. He slowed.

"Huh... guess I wasn't as late as I thought..." he said, giggling softly to himself. He was one of the first in the queue to enter the classroom, taking a seat near some of the other Slytherins. He pulled out a few of the things he'd need from his bag, starting when a flash of emerald caught his eye. Uraeus flicked his tail at Ryou, and there was an amused twinkle in his eye.

Ryou sighed. "You behave," he whispered, pulling his things out.

Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle settled wordlessly nearby, brushing into class just before Snape said in his cold voice, "Settle down," in a way that made such words seem redundant. Nobody was talking. Ryou was surprised to note that half of the class consisted of Gryffindors. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat in the back of the unofficial red and gold section._  
_

"Today you will be mixing a potion that often comes up in your OWLs: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety. Be warned, however: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients, you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep..."

Ryou could feel Bakura's grin.

"The ingredients and method are on the blackboard. You will find everything you need in the store cupboard. You have an hour and a half... Start," he said. Around him, students rushed to the store cupboard to gather ingredients, but Ryou took a moment to study the recipe as if he were preparing a complicated dish for dinner. Really, it wasn't that different, except that there was much more magic involved.

After double-checking the ingredients, he stood and knelt before the cupboard.

"No, don't get that hellebore syrup stuff," Bakura said in his ear. "Grab the petals. They're much better."

"The instructions say syrup," Ryou whispered, grabbing for the jar.

Bakura fixed him with a disdainful expression. "Hikari? Have we forgotten already our little lesson from earlier? You know, the one where I proved I know significantly more than you do?"

Ryou flushed. "I don't think it happened exactly like that," he said, but still grabbed a handful of dried hellebore petals rather than the syrup. He returned to his station beside Draco, setting up his cauldron as quickly as possible. His cousin was already on the third step, and Ryou was falling behind. However, his experience in the kitchen, as well as the tips he'd learned from Snape all those weeks ago at Grimmauld Place, were coming in handy now.

Even Bakura contributed a few ideas every now and again, citing his experience in Egypt with tisanes and potions made from exotic, otherworldly ingredients that had been brought in from distant lands and marketed in the bazaars for sacks of gold. Most of it had been the same bullcrap that clustered muggle magic today, but a few potioneers were the real deal. Living in a hole in the desert required some... creative uses of those ingredients, and Bakura had picked up on a thing or two.

He'd never seen a potion quite like this one, but the ingredients were one thing he vaguely understood. The application of magic to the potion was another thing Bakura was acutely aware of. Certain incantations had to be recited over the potion, and some creative reworking of the phrasing only did Ryou favors.

With ten minutes left to go, his potion was emitting the exact soft, silvery colored vapor it was supposed to. The only other person whose potion came close was Hermione's, although Draco was a close second. Ryou's, however, was perhaps a single shade lighter than either. As Snape passed his cauldron, which Ryou stirred gently by waving his silvery wand only inches above the surface, the man offered a small nod of approval. "Five points to Slytherin House," he said simply, his facial expression never changing, before continuing his rounds.

Ryou smiled to himself. If his classes were more like Potions, they'd all be a blast. If they were more like Divination, then he was in for hell. His head was still swimming from the fumes that had filled the classroom, although that could be partially because of the clouds of multi-colored smoke the choked the air around them. Not everyone was as successful as he was in making the potion.

When Goyle, for instance, poured his potion into a flagon, the whole configuration exploded and set him on fire. Across the room, he could see Ron's potion emitting thick streams of electric green sparks. And Harry... Snape came around and cleaned Harry's potion out of the cauldron, declaring it worthless. Draco had laughed at this, but Ryou only felt sorry for him. His potion was no worse than the Neville boy's, which looked like fresh concrete.

Ryou placed a flagon of his potion carefully on the desk, offering Harry an apologetic glance as he sat down beside his cousin. "Nice work earning those points," Draco remarked. "Snape favors us, you know, if you hadn't noticed. Of course, nobody's complaining. Just because we have to share this class with those Gryffindors doesn't mean we have to like it."

Crabbe and Goyle nodded emphatically.

"Do we share any more classes with them?" Ryou asked.

"Not many, thankfully. Come on, I think it's time for lunch." Draco stood and gestured to Ryou, but he only shook his head.

"No thanks; I'm not really hungry. I think I'll just go to the library and start on that Moonstone essay Snape assigned," he said. A foot of parchment? Ryou didn't like the sound of that one bit. Never one to procrastinate, he gathered his things and waved goodbye to his cousin.

He found his way to the library with minimal trouble, Bakura pointing out a few of the better hallways to take to avoid the lunch rush. He was utterly in his element amongst the books. It was no trouble at all for him to find the book he needed and he settled into one of the numerous tables scattered around the library. For a while, there was no sound other than the quiet scratching of Ryou's quill on the parchment.

Writing with a quill was probably the weirdest part about this school. Not the magic; Ryou was used to that after the ugly escapades including, but not limited to, Duelist Kingdom, Battle City, and the Memory World. It wasn't the strange teachers, or the massive castle. No, it was the quill and parchment that was the hardest part for Ryou to adjust to.

For one thing, a quill required a bottle of ink. That meant Ryou had to carry both ink and a feather everywhere he went, because ballpoint pens didn't work well on parchment. He'd tried.

Another was that he was writing with a feather. Have you ever written with a feather? It was a very unusual thing for Ryou to adjust to, and he wasn't sure he liked it. The tip wriggled and made his usually neat handwriting look wobbly and childish. Still, he muddled through and managed to crank out several inches of the essay before it was time to head to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

With his usual alacrity, he made his way to the DADA room. He'd heard so many stories about fun lessons that he couldn't wait. He took a seat near the front of the room, being one of the first people to arrive. The others were probably still out chatting and wandering the halls. Professor Umbridge, however, was already sitting primly at the teacher's desk. That should have been a sign that the first day of class wasn't going to start well.

But then, Ryou wasn't very good at reading signs sometimes.

* * *

**And there you have part one of Ryou's first day. Yes, this is late. School-work has been awful, not to mention I already have another round of tests coming up... Forgive me my busy schedule. I am going to try and get the second part up sometime tomorrow. **

**Anyway, as was the case with Ryou's parents, Draco's owl had no name. It got the name Noctua after an owl-shaped constellation. ****Also, I don't know why Bakura hates ties, and why Pansy likes Ryou. Many unexpected things happened in the translation from thought to e-ink. For example, I just randomly came up with the reason Umbridge completely ignores Hermione for so long. She doesn't want a repeat. Also, Bakura ended up OOC. It ****happens.**

**EDIT: I fixed Draco's potion. We good now?**

**Anyway, feel free to review. I'll try and get the rest of it up before November. **


	12. Chapter 12

**I told you I'd have it before November!**

* * *

The Defense Against the Dark Arts class was silent as people filed in. Nobody knew what to expect from this teacher, Ryou assumed. With Snape, you sat down and didn't dare say a word, yet nobody took Trelawney's class the least bit seriously.

"Well, good afternoon!" she said delightedly, when all of the seats had been filled. Nobody said a word. She frowned at them. "Tut, tut. That just won't do now. You're supposed to reply with 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge. Now let's try this again. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon," they chorused back. Satisfied, she flicked her wand at the board, telling the class to put their wands up. Ryou complied, confused. He had been under the impression that this was another one of the classes that involved practical application. Words appeared as they finished the task, spelling out 'Defense Against the Dark Arts: A Return to Basic Principles' in a loopy, even script.

Ryou pulled out a piece of parchment and the dreaded quill, already knowing what was going to happen. Nearly every other teacher he'd ever had at his other schools had done the same. Course aims replaced the class name, and Ryou dutifully copied them down. Still, something struck a small chord within him. Wasn't this a class for learning to use spells? There was an entire class dedicated to Magical Theory, and this wasn't it.

Professor Umbridge seemed to be quite approachable, though. Her voice was kind and fluttery, and she hadn't done anything too outwardly unusual. She seemed like any other teacher at any other school. Ryou had forgotten that this was Hogwarts.

As the class was set to reading, he raised his hand.

"What is it, Mr...?"

"Ryou Bakura," he supplied dutifully.

"Do you have a question about the chapter?" she asked.

"Not exactly. Pardon me," he began. "But I thought that this was a class about learning to use defensive magic."

"Why, it is," Umbridge replied.

Ryou's eyebrows dipped. "But the course aims don't mention anything about actually using magic. Just the theory."

"Well, we aren't using magic in this class. We're reading chapter one of William Slinkhard's text. Go on now, get reading."

Ryou peered around for a moment. Nobody else was reading anymore. It was likely because the text was dense, and reading it didn't strike most people as enjoyable. Ryou had muscled through it for the sake of knowledge. The others clearly didn't share this ideal, and seemed to be far more interested in Ryou.

"I've already read it," Ryou said, blushing in embarrassment. "I just wanted to understand. Will we ever practice those spells we learn in class?"

"But why would you need to cast those spells?"

"Well..." Ryou muttered, feeling slightly cornered. /The pigeon test, Hikari/ Bakura suggested, and Ryou sat up a little straighter. He thought he knew what Bakura meant. "The OWL's. Isn't there a practical portion?"

"Surely if you apply yourself in learning the theory, preforming the spells should be no trouble when you are before a qualified instructor," she said silkily.

Ryou made a small, dissatisfied noise in the back of his throat, trying to keep the hint of desperation from edging his tone. He glanced over at Draco, who shrugged. "I'm sorry, and I don't know if I speak for my peers, but I can't just preform a spell. I need to practice it a few times before I can do it right."

"Enough arguing," Umbridge said. "Ten points from Slytherin." Heat flooded Ryou's cheeks. Tears stung at his eyes, threatening to spill over. And of course, other Slytherins were glaring darkly at him. He could feel his lip wobbling. This was awful. He'd just stood up to a teacher. Worse still, he'd made a fool of himself in front of the class and lost more points than he'd earned. Even someone as new as him knew that this was certainly not good.

Suddenly, his body was shoved up from the seat, and his eyes blazed crimson with anger. "That was uncalled for," he said, his tone scary in that, despite the fire in his eyes, it spoke the words softly, as if calm. Bakura had wrenched control from his withdrawing light. "I was just asking a simple question. Is that really a reason to take points away from a kid, especially when it's his first year here?"

"Sit down," she snapped.

"I don't think I will," Bakura replied, cocking his head in a 'what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it?' sort of way.

"Mr. Bakura, you've already lost your house ten points. You will sit," she hissed.

/_Bakura, just sit!_/ Ryou pleaded. Bakura's eye twitched as he sank slowly into the chair. His glare intensified the whole way down, settling into a blistering glare that could have set someone on fire. A small shadowed hole appeared in the floor below Umbridge's foot, and her whole body plunged to the left as she was buried to her knee in the shadow realm. The girth of her leg allowed her to fall no farther.

He smirked. Umbridge gaped at him. "This... is an attack on a ministry appointed official!" she spat, pulling herself up very slowly. With all of Bakura's intense control, the hole sealed up for every millimeter that her leg rose, making it impossible for her to see exactly what she'd fallen into.

His eyes went wide with Ryou-like innocence. "Did I do that?" he asked.

Her eyes were the ones blazing in anger now. "Yes, you did," she spat. And then, after a deep breath, her voice was calm. It was Bakura-Scary-Calm. In her sweetest voice, she said, "Come here, Ryou, dear." Bakura stood with all of the grace he could muster, which, being a master thief, was quite a bit, and approached the desk. Umbridge scrawled a note on a sheet of rolled up parchment. A tap of her wand sealed it seamlessly. "Take this to Professor Snape."

Bakura grabbed it and turned without another word. As they entered the hallway, Bakura broke the seal open. His eyes scanned it quickly, Ryou fuming silently in the background the whole while. Detention. He was going to get detention.

/_Why would you do that, Bakura?!_/ Ryou finally yelled.

/Simple/ Bakura replied easily. /She was walking all over you and I didn't like it. It tarnishes my own reputation. Not to mention a detention makes a better name for you than losing a few of those silly points. You sit in a room by yourself and everyone thinks you're rebellious, or you just lose points and act like that was your plan all along. Those 'popular' people you idolized at your last few schools did it. Why can't you?/

/_Because this is Hogwarts, and I screwed up. But you messed up more than me! I've never had detention before! Oh, god. What are people going to think? What will my dad think?_/

/I honestly think your dad stopped caring when he last went to Egypt. He's not going to give two shits about detention, and neither should you/ Bakura chided, waving a tendril of shadow magic over the scroll to reseal it as it was before. Still, Ryou continued to fret the whole way to the dungeons, where Bakura promptly left Ryou in charge. /Don't forget that people underestimate you when you cry. Teary is good/ Bakura advised.

Ryou felt emotion burn at his eyes. Detention. He'd never _ever_ had detention before. Sure, it wasn't supposed to be a big deal, but it was to him. He wasn't a bad kid. Still, this wouldn't be the first time Bakura had gotten him in trouble, and Bakura was right. Ryou might not like it, but his crying had gotten him out of what was almost detention before. Of course, those had been genuine tears. Could he really fake some tears?

No, he didn't need to. The corners of his eyes dampened as he entered Snape's office.

What is it, Mr. Bakura?" Snape asked in his vaguely menacing, soft tone.

Ryou stepped into the office, eyes still burning. "Professor Umbridge told me to give this to you," he squeaked, handing over the scroll. Snape tapped it with his wand, and it unrolled swiftly. A light sneer was on his face.

"This says you attacked your professor using wandless, non-verbal magic. Magic that is, as you know, far beyond the talents of even the typical fifth-year student, which you are not. Tell me something, Mr. Bakura. How does something like this happen?" he asked silkily, the rhetoric not escaping Ryou.

Still, he answered. "Bakura."

"That is no excuse," Snape said, eyes narrowing. "Control him. You must not let him draw attention to you. The Order requires you to watch over Potter, something you cannot do if you spend your time in detention, and the Ministry of Magic is looking for any excuse to exercise control over the school. You mustn't allow them a chance to do so."

"But-"

"Control him," Snape repeated.

/Yeah, Hikari. _Control me_/ Bakura echoed, grinning in amusement.

Ryou's shoulder's sagged. "I, well, I mean-"

"Until you can get your horcrux and the magic that comes with it reined in, you will carry out all of your assigned detentions."

"Yes, sir," he acquiesced softly, lowering his head.

"I will hope that you do not lose us any more points, as we've lost the house cup the last four years; however, keep in mind that misbehavior in Professor Umbridge's class will cost you much more than house points and detentions, Mr. Bakura."

"What do you mean?" Ryou asked.

"There are things you do not fully comprehend playing out in the castle this year, and it would be in your best interests to discover just what that is before it is too late," Snape said icily, before making a gesture for Ryou to leave his office. "Dismissed."

Ryou trudged slowly to his next class, History of Magic. By the time he had ascended the staircases to reach the level of the classroom, it was already time to switch to the next period, and students were streaming out of the room looking half-asleep, as if they had just awoken. Several of their foreheads bore tell-tale marks of having rested on forearms for too long a period of time, while others wore their scarlet badges of sleeping shame on their cheekbones and chins.

Taken by surprise, he watched as the students left one by one and scattered to their next class. Had all of them fallen asleep? What teacher allowed that, especially on the first day? He entered the classroom hesitantly. He couldn't stifle his gasp. The teacher was a ghost.

The silvery figure, however, laid claim to the most boring class Ryou had ever sat in. Not even the topic of Giant Wars could keep Ryou from dozing under the soporific effects of Binn's voice. For twenty minutes, he fought tooth and nail to take notes on the subject. Twenty minutes, and he tried to stay awake. But eventually he began to weaken, and his resolve was softened under the soothing onslaught.

His eyes, still burning faintly from his newly-won detention, closed for only a moment, needed to relieve the heat that kept the eyelids sinking lower and lower. He blinked. He had woken with the bell. It felt as though he'd done no more than close his eyes for the barest of moments, but in reality, it seemed as if he'd slept soundly until the end of class. A faint trail of drool traced down the corner of his lip and onto his chin.

Even Bakura was groggy as Ryou stood, stretching his tired limbs that had grown stiff. His movements were vaguely robotic as he grabbed his things and followed an equally asleep-looking Draco down to dinner.

"Is that History class always like that?" he asked, yawning hugely at his fair-haired cousin.

Draco nodded sleepily. "Every day."

Ryou rubbed at his eyes as he walked.

"So what happened with you and Umbridge?" Draco asked. "It was like you were an entirely different person."

Ryou stared at the ground. "You know how Bakura can just... appear and disappear whenever he wants?" he asked softly.

"Yeah."

"Well, he can take over my body and pretend to be me." Ryou said this bluntly, his tone neither upset nor happy about the situation.

"And that's what happened to get you detention? Bakura just... took over? How does he do that?" Draco asked.

Ryou shrugged. "He just does. I can't stop him when he wants to, he just does. He doesn't do it often though. Just when..."

"Just when?"

Ryou didn't answer. He sat down at the table, but he picked around at his food, pushing most of it around on his plate rather than eating it. He didn't say much more the rest of the evening. He didn't want to talk about it. Detention, mountains of homework, and then Snape telling him he had to figure out why he had to be careful around Hogwarts, not to mention reconciling with Harry and the gang in order to carry out Dumbledore's orders, meant that he had too much to do to worry about Bakura.

Bakura was a problem he'd already mostly dealt with a while back. The two were on amicable terms now. Ryou wasn't sure why Bakura had taken over so forcefully in class, but surely finding out about Umbridge was more important than that.

Ryou retired to the library, planning on finishing his essay on moonstones. He spent the time tiredly debating with Uraeus, still in his bag, about whether or not books were useful. Ryou said they were. Uraeus called them kindling, a point which irritated Ryou.

Madame Pince, though she loomed over Ryou's table every time he whispered in Parseltongue to the snake, didn't seem to understand a word of their conversation, and he was fine with that. She had no way to prove he was talking at all, and Ryou wasn't in the best of moods anyway.

It took a while for him to finish the essay, and as soon as he had done that, he began on the essay on Giant Wars. By the time he had trudged down to his bed, it was late and he was tired.

He changed quickly into something comfortable and crawled into bed, his green eyes heavy with exhaustion. He shut the hangings and was out almost instantly. No ill dreams plagued him for the few hours he slept; at least, until he woke up with a weight on his chest and a grinning Bakura inches from his face.

"Oh, jeez," Ryou gasped softly, trying not to wake up the others. "What are you doing?"

"Get up," Bakura ordered, climbing off of Ryou and tugging him by the wrist until he was sitting upright.

/_Don't wake the others up_/ Ryou chastised sleepily. /_Now what on earth are you doing?_/

/We are going somewhere. Now get dressed, and do it quickly/

Fighting back a grumble of displeasure, he rose from his bed and slid his socked feet into shoes. A tangled mess of hair hung knotted in his eyes, but he followed nonetheless as Bakura weaved out of the common room.

The darkness of the dungeon was cool on Ryou's skin. Ahead of him, the back of Bakura's head bobbed in the gloom. Nothing else could be seen. The torches that lined the walls were extinguished for the night, and they were far enough down in the dungeons that no portraits were hung. The only movement around was theirs.

Bakura ducked to the left, scampering quickly up the stairs. He paused at the first floor landing, grinning ghoulishly. His red eyes glinted in light that filtered through pane glass windows.

/There is a step you'll want to avoid. Just do as I do/ Bakura said, hopping lightly up the steps and skipping the one Ryou had seen a first year fall into. Ryou leapt over it tentatively, following his yami to the seventh floor. They ducked into the left corridor, the tapestries lining the walls growing stranger and stranger as they went on. When they reached one of a man teaching trolls ballet, Bakura paused.

/_What is it?_/ Ryou asked.

Bakura held up a single finger, a sign to wait. /Good will come to those who wait/ he said. He began to pace before the tapestry. Ryou almost swore he heard Bakura projected some form of thought aloud, although the words didn't reach him intelligibly. There was no way to be sure. He sighed and watched as Bakura's feet traced their way down the hall for a third time before stopping where he had begun.

A door appeared on the wall, so subtly that Ryou almost missed it.

Bakura swept over to the doorway, turning the handle in grand fashion and moving his hands out in a flourish as he opened it.

"What is this?" Ryou whispered aloud. He stepped though, looking around. Towering shelves of books and games covered the walls, and the room was richly furnished with comfortable chaise chairs, couches, and tables. The center of the room was dominated by a Monster World RPG table. Despite the memories it carried, it was still his favorite game.

He felt his jaw drop.

"Seriously," he said. "What is this?"

"I believe it is known as the Room of Requirement," Bakura answered. He faced Ryou and smiled a genuine smile.

"This is... This is amazing!" Ryou cried, running his fingers along the books. He ran over to the other side of the room, pulling one of the games off the shelf. He recognized it from the Kame Game shop. His stare was blank with awe as he replaced the box. "But why? Who created this room? How?"

"Not sure," Bakura said. "Look," he added, pointing to a large portrait of a smiling family hanging in the back of the room. A dark haired man held a young girl with white-blonde pigtails on his shoulders. His arms embraced a slightly older boy with long, similarly colored hair and a woman who was without a doubt the children's mother. They looked happy, as if nothing had ever torn them apart.

Ryou's eyes misted slightly as he looked at the lovely painting, and he smiled ever so faintly. "It's beautiful," he whispered. He stepped close to it, trailing his fingertips slowly down the length of the painting's foreground. "Thank you."

"Happy birthday, Hikari."

* * *

**This won't be updated for a while, and this time I'm absolutely positive on this. I plan on doing NaNoWriMo this year, since my friend managed to talk me into it. I probably won't make it to 50,000 words in time since I'm in classes that keep me so busy and I'm a damn slow writer, but I'm going to try! Anyone else doing NaNo with me? Let me know! We can be writing buddies. **

**Still, it doesn't hurt to review! Maybe some support will keep me trucking through this long, cold month of November. Actually, that's a lie. It's been in the 60's for the most part. Such lovely fall weather... Pity I'm spending it all inside! Not really, but you know what I mean. I love fall...**

**Happy Halloween! Now if you'll excuse me, I have the new episode of Face Off to catch. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Oh, god, guys, I'm so sorry. I've gone five months without an update and I feel like utter crap. I doubt I'll**** be able to keep up with the biweekly post schedule I used to have. I'm just going to have to post whenever I get one done, be it a day or a month. I'm sorry about that, I really am. **

**Also, even though it's been so long, I never went back and re-read what I wrote before so I'm just flying by the seat of my pants here. If what I say accidentally contradicts something I said in a previous chapter, just smile, nod, and pretend it's the truth. ****I'll fix the first few chapters when I finish the Hogwarts holidays, which probably won't be for a while.**

**Anyway, you didn't come here to listen to me rant, you came to read the chapter. I'll go... wait over there. **

* * *

"Huuuuhhh," Ryou sighed softly, settling his chin deep into his hands. "Huhhh."

/Hikari, that's the tenth time you've sighed in as many minutes/

"Huuuuuh!" Ryou sighed, this time pointedly. He could feel Bakura's eye roll.

Why do you keep making that ungodly racket?/ Bakura said grouchily.

Ryou closed his eyes. /_In case you've forgotten, I've got detention tonight thanks to you_/ He kept his lips from moving as sat in the back of the classroom, barely controlling himself. /_I really hope detention doesn't take too long_/ he mused. /_I have to practice Professor McGonagall's Vanishing Spell for tomorrow, and all of these charms..._/

He let the thought trail off. He was sitting in Charms class, a double period today, and the tiny teacher had spent the double period, at least thus far, reviewing charms from previous years. And even though they acted as an excellent reminder of just how much he didn't know and how hard he was going to have to work to catch up, it was still nice. He had read enough of Hermione's books to have a rudimentary knowledge of charms, but seeing live demonstrations of many of the spells was unbelievably helpful.

Detention still weighed heavily on his mind, but the amount of homework was steadily growing worse. They had spent an entire double period in Transfiguration working on vanishing spells, which Ryou was only fair at, before getting a massive load of homework from Professor Flitwick. He hoped Umbridge's punishment wouldn't last too long. She had every right to be angry, Ryou knew, so he supposed it wouldn't be right to be too upset with her. It just would have been easier to not have to deal with.

/How long is this going to take?/ Bakura grumbled. /This whole... detention thing?/

/_Why, have a hot date?_/

/I might. Watch your mouth or you may just bite your tongue/

/_That made absolutely no sense_/

/Just think about it. It'll come to you/

/_You're just angry that I didn't bring Uraeus again_/ Ryou hummed, throwing his books neatly into his bag after class was dismissed.

/Very true. What good can he do getting fat off of treats and never leaving your trunk?/

/_He's happy_/

/He's also lazy. Don't indulge him/ Bakura scolded. /You should go get him. Fresh air might knock some sense into him/

/_I don't have time. I have to go all the way outside for_-/

"Ryou, wait up," Pansy called.

Ryou paused, turning back against the throng of rushing students that crowded the hall. Not far back, standing under the massive arches that crisscrossed the hall, were the other Slytherins. Pansy was smiling and waving. Beside her stood Malfoy, Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, and several others, nearly half of the sixth year class. They were crowded by the wall to avoid the surge of students, and, smiling, Ryou threaded his way over to them.

/You going to finish that thought?/ Bakura muttered snidely. His words went unnoticed as Malfoy spoke.

"We were going to walk up to Care of Magical Creatures together. Why don't you join us?"

"I'd love too," Ryou chirped cheerily, thriving on the invitation that sent jitters of joy through him. Acceptance felt... nice. "So, what is it like?"

"Hell," Blaise muttered. "I had burns from those bloody blast-ended whatsits for months."

"Burns?"

"The class is dangerous. If it kills, maims, or eats people, that bloody half-giant loves it," a Slytherin spat. "I hope Grubbly-Plank stays a while. Probably get off easy for once."

"If we don't hurry, we'll be late," another grumbled.

"Big deal," Pansy retorted. She smiled at Ryou, and from behind her he caught a glimpse of a small glare from Malfoy. But in a flash it was gone, and Malfoy was walking.

"Let's just get moving," Malfoy said.

/Does that cousin of yours seem... off?/

/_Eh? What do you mean?_/ Ryou asked.

Ryou felt his shoulders shrug slightly. /It's probably nothing/ Bakura said.

Ryou chatted aimlessly with the others as they made their way to Care of Magical Creatures. The sky above their heads was leaden and roiling ominously with the prospects of rain, and a few errant drops spattered his face every now and again. He pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders as Malfoy cracked a particularly amusing joke about Gryffindors that wasn't too different from a blonde joke.

It couldn't have possibly been completely true, but Ryou couldn't stifle the small giggle that burst from his lips.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were already at the location of the class, and it wasn't hard to see the leery looks that they shot him even from this distance. Ryou glanced back at Malfoy and saw that his cousin had a similar sneer on his face; however, the Slytherins didn't finish their chortling until they settled at the trestle table, despite the dirty looks.

When class started, Ryou wasn't laughing anymore. Slytherins kept whispering things that were escalating quickly, and Malfoy did a cruel, buck-toothed impression that looked somewhat like a rabid squirrel when Hermione answered a question. Eventually, Ryou didn't even understand half of the insults they threw at her and the other Gryffindors, but he could tell none of them were good by the way the Gryffindors glared.

What did Draco mean by the original teacher of this class getting into some sort of trouble too big for him to handle? And just what was a mudblood? Purebloods, Ryou recalled, were people with both wizard parents, right? Did that mean that a mudblood didn't have wizard parents? Ryou didn't know what was so bad about that. Ryou sighed again. He was sighing quite a bit today, wasn't he?

By the time dinner rolled around, Ryou was worked up about detention again. How long would it last? What would he have to do? Lines? Other homework? He hoped the latter, as he still had Flitwick's essay to write. His hand was sore, too. Quills were unusual to use and had begun to have ill-effects on his wrist.

It got so bad that, rather than eat the early dinner he planned on having before heading to detention, he couldn't hardly stomach the food before him. It looked utterly unappetizing and completely unpalatable. Did anyone else have detention, or was it only him? He felt guilty for thinking it, but he almost wished he wasn't alone.

/It's natural for people to want things like that. It means you're normal/ Bakura said. Ryou could feel his smirk. /It means you're no better than the rest of us, hikari/

/_I never said I was. Where on earth would get get an idea like that?_/

/You really are truly oblivious, aren't you?/

/_I'm not! What are you talking about?_/

/Never mind. Look, the Potter gang/ Bakura said suddenly, subtly directing Ryou's attention. Ryou glanced up. A loud girl was berating Harry about something, and although Ryou could just make out her voice distinctly carrying across the Great Hall, he couldn't hear what she was saying to him. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been good. Both had their proverbial hackles raised as if they had something to prove to the other.

Ryou stood. It was getting close to five, and he obviously wasn't going to be eating tonight. He'd be as well off to just head up to Professor Umbridge's room now. Better early than late. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry looking somewhat glum and picking at a lamb chop. What were the odds that Harry had detention, too?

He righted his bag over his shoulder. The main staircase would get him there with five minutes to spare, but he'd have to fight his way through the first wave of the dinner crowd. If he took the passageway Bakura found on the first floor, Ryou would get to Umbridge's third floor office right at five, avoiding everyone.

/Worth it. Do the passageway/ Bakura barked.

/_Alright_/ Ryou muttered, making his way through. He knocked on the door just as a nearby clock began to reverberate loudly with the first of five solid knells.

"Come in," came Umbridge's sugary-sweet voice.

Ryou pushed open the door, taken aback by what he saw. Aside from the numerous ornamental plates adorned with admittedly cute kittens frolicking with brightly colored bows around their necks, there were lace doilies, vases of dried flowers, and, most notably, Harry Potter. Ryou was taken aback to say the least.

Umbridge turned back to Harry, eyes noticeably narrow. "Now, what were you saying?"

Harry stared at Ryou for a moment, looking about as surprised as he was, before turning back to Umbridge. "Well, I'm... I'm on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And I was supposed to be at the tryouts for the new Keeper at five o'clock on Friday and I was-was wondering whether I could skip detention that night and do it- do it another night... instead..."

Ryou listened soundlessly. The expression on Umbridge's face made the answer cruelly obvious.

"On, no," she said. Her smile would have been, on anyone else, pleasantly pleased. But Ryou had seen that expression before on Bakura's face. It was a smile that screamed 'canary eating cat'. And, although on Umbridge's froggy face, it seemed more like a toad who just snapped up a juicy fly, the look was unmistakable. "Oh no, no, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Mr. Potter, and punishments certainly cannot be adjusted to suit the guilty one's convenience."

Ryou felt his blood chill as she continued to speak. This lesson she was trying to teach didn't seem so benign as it had at first. Perhaps there was a reason Bakura was just waiting for a chance to lash out at her again.

"There," Umbridge said, her sickly sweet smile never truly vanishing, "we're getting better at controlling out temper already, aren't we? Now, you two will be doing lines for me. No, not with your quill," she added.

Ryou glanced back at Harry, who was straightening up after going to dig in his bag for a quill.

"You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are, boys," she purred insidiously. Between her stubby fingers were two narrow, black quills. "Ryou, you will write 'I must control my magic', and Harry, you will write 'I must not tell lies'."

"How many times?" Harry asked stiffly.

"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to _sink in_," she said. "Off you go." Umbridge made her way back to her desk looking very smug, appearing to grade papers. Ryou shuffled his way to one of the two desks brought into the office and sat down, quill poised over the sheet of parchment already laid out, when he paused. Something was missing.

"Um, pardon me, Professor Umbridge, ma'am?" he asked, trying to sound as polite as possible. "Harry and I don't have any ink."

"Oh, you won't need any ink," Professor Umbridge laughed.

Ryou looked back at the sheet of parchment. It wasn't hard to remember the last time he'd looked at something that should have been, by all rights, completely innocuous, but left a hint of dread bubbling up in Ryou's throat nonetheless. The end result of that had been a new 'tenant' who shared his body without so much as a second thought. But it was just parchment, right? Nothing to fear?

Perhaps the quills just had magical reservoirs of ink stored inside to expedite the process. If he didn't have to keep dipping the quill in ink, he could write more lines in the same period of time. Ryou glanced over at Harry, who had just sat down. Harry didn't seem to have any reservations about the quill, and was making the first of the marks without hesitation. Harry gasped softly.

Ryou's eyes went wide. What was it? Why did he gasp? But Harry only glared at Umbridge for a moment before resuming without pause.

Ryou's hand was shaking as it lowered over the parchment. _I must control my magic_, he wrote. The ink flowed easily from the tip of the quill, writing in the color of blood.

Ryou whimpered softly as a flash of pain lashed across the back of his hand. He was almost scared to look at the pained spot, but he turned his hand slowly and looked at the lines of red. 'I must control my magic' was written, in his own handwriting, on the back of his hand. Bakura's anger was immediate.

/THAT BITCH/ Bakura roared savagely, and Ryou gasped audibly in pain as the words scorched his mind. /HOW DARE SHE? SHE HAS NO RIGHT!/

"N-no-" Ryou whispered, unable to even think through the violent throbbing that was Bakura. He curled his rapidly healing hand into the other. "Don't, please, don't! It isn't a big deal, it's already healed-" His voice was quiet, and he hoped nobody could hear his murmurs.

/SHE IS DAMAGING THE HOST BODY AND I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT! I SHALL KILL HER!/ Bakura continued. The temperature of the room dipped, and a certain clamminess crawled along Ryou's arms and face. Chills rocketed along his spine in accordance with Bakura's rage. Darkness, visible only to the shadow mages, flowed freely around the room, driven by Bakura's wrath to dim the lights overhead and crawl ever closer to Umbridge.

"You can't-" Ryou's entire body was trembling with the force it took to keep Bakura at bay. The candles flickered ominously. Ryou's body was wracked by a savage spasm.

"Is something wrong?" Umbridge asked sweetly. She didn't appear to hear his words, but there was no telling what Harry, who sat so close, could hear and feel.

"Nothing," Ryou gasped desperately, louder, to Umbridge. /_Bakura, please! If you do this, it'll ruin everything!_/

/I told you, Hikari! I shall not stand for this! She has crossed the line this time!/

/_I can handle it! Don't do it, please, Bakura!_/ Ryou sobbed. His entire body was shaking as he began to write again, trying to hold Bakura back through sheer will to appear normal. The words lashed his hand again and again, cutting deeper with every repetition and yet healing somewhat every time.

"I can handle it," he whispered as softly as he could. "I can handle it. I can handle it."

Bakura's rage gradually became a backburn simmer, and loathing flowed easily through the mindlink. Bakura was staring daggers at Professor Umbridge. Umbridge watched back, unknowing that the spirit was there, unknowing he would gladly slit her throat with Malik's beloved Millennium Rod or a dull spork given the chance.

Darkness, this of the natural and non-magical breed, fell outside the window. Ryou's soft mutters faded away with time as the threat of losing control became smaller and smaller, but the slight shimmer of tears never left his eyes fully.

What if Bakura had taken over again? What if he had put Umbridge in a coma like he had those boys all those years ago? Bakura had no reservations about using shadow magic on others, Ryou knew this, but he usually went blissfully unaware of when it happened. He was content that way, to only know of the occasional mishap when reading about the 'mysterious coma' in one of the paper's passing mentions. Seeing it happen before him again, even though it had been years ago, Ryou didn't know what he would do.

They were closer, yes, but the cord that bound them in what Ryou could almost call friendship was flimsy and could easily snap. All it would take was for Bakura to overstep somewhere and he could easily tear Ryou back down to the pitiful mess he once was. It was all dishearteningly easy. Ryou's mental stability was much improved, but not perfect by any means. Although not as frequent as they once were, there were still times in the middle of the night when Ryou wept for his sister and mother, his father, his friends. There were times when Ryou forced a smile when all he wanted to do was break down and lose it.

Bakura would watch all this with his deep red eyes, Ryou's continuous rise and fall, but he never did anything about it. He didn't poke Ryou with barbs designed to inflict suffering, but neither did he have a kind word. Just sarcasm, for the most part. So long as nothing physically hurt Ryou and damaged the host body, Ryou was pretty sure Bakura didn't care what happened to him. That much had been obvious from the beginning. Things were going fairly well now, but how long would they last? Ryou could almost taste the storm clouds on the horizon, bitter with acrimony and blackened by a grim inevitability.

It was late when Professor Umbridge finally allowed them to stop, leaving Ryou almost in tears of joy. She summoned both up to her desk and examined their hands, Ryou all the while pondering just how much of an impact this night would have.

She tutted them, saying, "I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet. Well, we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, then, won't we? You may go."

He followed Harry silently out of the room. Neither said a word to the other as they let the distance between them and Umbridge's office grow, an unspoken agreement tenuous but there. But when they reached the corner, and Harry opened his mouth to say something to Ryou, Ryou didn't give him the chance to say a word.

He fled without a second thought, and, upon hearing no footsteps following him, ducked into the nearest passageway. This one would take him straight to the dungeons and Slytherin common room, and away from Harry Potter.

He didn't know how much of that scene Harry had seen and understood, but it only took a hint of distrust and they'd never want to say a word to him again. Not to mention his promise to Dumbledore, that he'd protect them without telling them of Bakura. It was the only way to keep Harry safe. It was obvious that Harry hated Malfoy, which made it more difficult, but still! Surely Harry had seen that Ryou wasn't a bad person! They'd spent a fair amount of the summer together in that old Grimmauld Place!

But now the rift that had appeared the moment Ryou was sorted to Slytherin was growing larger and spreading them further and further apart. And if it got too large, Ryou could very likely fail Dumbledore simply because he was too far away.

Ryou could only groan to himself in misery. It felt like his whole world was crashing down around him and everything was impossibly difficult. He had so much homework, so much on his plate, he was exhausted, it was late, and his hand hurt. This was surely hell.

/I'm fairly certain you have to be dead to go to hell/ Bakura rumbled bluntly.

Ryou sniffled once. He couldn't help it- he began to cry softly to himself.

* * *

"How was detention?"

It was an innocent enough question. Malfoy seemed genuinely curious, at any rate.

"It was... fine," Ryou said, voice quavering slightly. "Lines. Nothing... too bad."

/Liar/

/_I don't... I don't want to talk about it. There's nothing to say_/

/Such as how you went back to your room and cried half the night?/

/_Did not!_/

/Yes, you did. You probably don't remember it because you were tired. You need sleep. And food/

/_I'm not hungry_/

Bakura settled on the bench across the table from Ryou as a semi-visible wisp, his eyes narrowed in a leer. /Yes you are, you just don't know it. Also, if you're just going to sit there and let that frog make you cut yourself up in detention for the next week, I don't think you should be allowed to starve yourself anymore. Seems... ungrateful. You know, considering there are starving orphans in Africa and all that/

/_What do you care about starving- oh. You were one. Sorry_/ Ryou muttered.

/I'd rather we change the subject now/

/_Same here_/

Bakura stared at Ryou for a long time, eyes never moving, never leaving Ryou's. The hikari dipped his head and pushed a small morsel of egg in circles around his plate. He could still feel the stare, vacant, thoughtful.

/_Is something wrong?_/_  
_

/Absolutely nothing/ Bakura replied, vanishing instantaneously. Ryou sighed and pushed the egg around a bit more, but did not eat it.

* * *

Time passed in miserable leaps and bounds. The words became etched deeper and deeper with every passing evening, and every night, Harry would try again to talk to Ryou about what had happened on that first night. But Ryou would always run off immediately after detention without so much as a word to Harry. Eventually, Ryou wouldn't even meet Harry's eye.

But one thing Harry did notice was that, after the third night, when the cuts became slow to heal and left deeper marks than the two times before, Ryou began wearing black cloth gloves around the castle in an attempt to hide the marks. A strange bulge under the fabric of one glove reminded him of a thick bandage that was hidden underneath.

Perhaps Ryou had the same train of thought as he- that this Umbridge business was a silent matter, a test of wills that wasn't to be spoken of to anyone else. At any rate, Ryou seemed about as tired as he was. Whenever Harry saw him in the classes that Gryffindors shared with Slytherins, he seemed tired and withdrawn, even more so than before. He even looked paler, if that was even possible. Like he wasn't eating.

Sometimes, curious, Harry would glance over to look at the Slytherin table. It was a piece of cake to pick out the two white-blond heads from the sea of black cloaks. And every time, Malfoy was eating, and Ryou was not. Eventually, he stopped showing up at all, not withstanding the occasional appearance at dinner. But Harry was too tired to think much on it.

Every night after Umbridge's evil detentions, Harry was forced to stay up absurdly late in an attempt to keep up with the massive waves of homework that constantly threatened to swallow him up. The only thing that got him through those long sessions was repeating the same words over and over again in his mind. _She's evil. She's an evil, twisted, mad, old-_

"Ron?" Harry asked.

His best friend was hiding behind a statue with his new broom, mumbling some excuse about hiding from Fred and George.

"What have you got you got your broom for, you haven't been flying, have you?" Harry asked.

Ron flushed very red, and seemed to be turning redder with every passing second that it took to stutter out his secret, that he was trying out for Gryffindor Keeper. He seemed reassured, however, when Harry said, "It's a brilliant idea! It'd be really cool if you got on the team!" He smiled and relaxed some as they began to walk back to the common room, Ron chatting excitedly about how he was practicing.

"Harry, what's that on the back of your hand?" Ron asked suddenly.

Harry froze, fingers scratching absently at his nose. He'd forgotten. How had he forgotten? "It's just a cut- it's nothing- it's-" he babbled.

Ron seized his arm, ignoring him. "I thought you said she was giving you lines?"

Harry hesitated. But Ron had been honest with him. It was only fair that Harry tell his friend the truth.

"The old hag!" Ron said, his voice a revolted whisper as they grew nearer to the portrait hole. "She's sick! Go to McGonagall, say something!"

"No," Harry said immediately. "I'm not giving her that satisfaction. But listen, Bakura? Ryou? He had detention, too."

"You're kidding. For what?"

"I don't know, but he had to write 'I must control my magic', so maybe... Maybe he just lost control in her class? But that's not the strangest thing. When he started writing with the quill the first time, it was as if, I'm not sure, it was almost as if he was trying to hold himself back. He kept whispering 'no', 'please don't' and 'I can handle it' again and again. He looked like he was about to cry. And then the room got cold, and the lights all got dim..."

"Reckon we should ask 'Mione about it?"

"Maybe," Harry said with a shrug. They gave the Fat Lady the password and slipped inside. Hermione was sitting in a chair, head bowed over a 'hat', although it more closely resembled a shapeless wool bladder.

He sat down heavily, suddenly realizing that, in order to talk about Ryou, they had to first tell Hermione about what Umbridge had done to him in detention. After the initial fury, Hermione calmed down enough to listen to the rest of the story.

"'Please don't'? 'I can handle it'? Are you sure that's what he said?" Hermione asked. "That's very odd. It definitely sounded as if he didn't want to lose control. But what would it be that would make him lose control? Unless it was..." Hermione's eyes flashed. "Ron, what do you remember from Ryou's first day at Grimmauld?"

"Er... Not a whole lot."

"Lupin said that Ryou was unpredictable. And when we were on the stairs, and I called him Bakura, he acted completely differently for a moment when he said to just call him Ryou. There were other things, too, probably. Things I can't remember right now."

"Well, you're the one who spent the most time with him. You and Ginny."

"Hermione and me what?" Ginny's voice drifted from the girl's dormitory staircase. She took the last few steps down the stairs and crossed her arms, standing in the common room.

Ron frowned at his sister. "Just where are you going?" he asked, and she leered at him.

"I was just getting a book I had left down here. What's it to you?"

"Sure you weren't going to visit with Dean?" Ron accused.

Ginny's glare became very icy. "I don't see how that's any of your business, Ron."

"Ginny, what do you remember about Ryou?" Hermione asked.

The redhead shrugged. "I don't know. He was really polite. He worked really hard, too. He was excited about learning, uh, what did he call it? 'Such controlled magic'? That's about it, I think. I was actually a little surprised when he ended up in Slytherin house, if it means anything. I thought he would have been a Hufflepuff. I guess his family was one of those who always went to Slytherin," she mused, picking up an abandoned book off of a nearby table. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Hermione said. "We were just wondering."

* * *

The morning after his final detention, Ryou glanced over at the Daily Prophet in mild curiosity during breakfast (he had always read the paper at home) and, to his surprise, saw the toad-like face of Professor Umbridge smiling at him from the front page. The headline blared 'Ministry Seeks Educational Reform- Dolores Umbridge Appointed First-Ever "High Inquisitor"'. And, stomach churning, he couldn't help but glance at the soft gloves that covered his hands and the thick bandage he had wrapped around the cut.

Every detention had gouged the wound deeper and deeper into the back of his hand, and his thin skin was prone to tearing open at the slightest provocation. The worst part was that, once it began to bleed, it didn't seem to want to stop, and the best Ryou could do was bind it tightly and hope that it would stop soon. The only comfort now was the small, reptilian body curled tightly around his wrist under the hem of his robe's sleeve. He had taken to carrying Uraeus around for company. Bakura had been mysteriously absent for the last few days, ever since the day after detention. Ryou was starting to get worried.

He poked a small strip of bacon into his sleeve, feeling Uraeus snap it up slyly and return to his previous position. He was the only reason Ryou had bothered to come to breakfast at all. It certainly wasn't to listen to Malfoy laugh about how he and several others had ruined Gryffindor's Quidditch practice, the same practice the trio had promised to give Ryou before school had started. In fact, if Ryou recalled correctly, his broom was at the bottom of his suitcase, the inside of which he had enlarged with magic.

But that wasn't the point, and Ryou doubted he even had the energy for it anyway. He ate nothing save a little bit of breakfast most days, not even bothering to show up for lunch and dinner. The only way he managed to stay afloat, balancing homework, makeup work, and the charms he practiced in his secret room, was to skip the mealtimes in favor of studying. Most days he simply stayed in the library when it was still fairly empty. When the after-dinner study crowd hit, he usually retreated to the solace of the private room. It was all becoming very routine.

Silently, Ryou pushed himself up from his seat at the table. A slice of toast had settled his queasy stomach, and Uraeus would be fine on that slice of bacon for several days, easily. There was no reason to stay. Ryou slunk out of the hall and to the library.

When he arrived, he selected a book at random off the shelves and brought it back to a table, leaving it open but not really reading it. Instead, he rested his hand on his cheek, bringing Uraeus close to his ear while simultaneously appearing to read.

"Have you seen Bakura lately?" he asked in a slight, worried whisper of Parseltongue. Madame Pince glanced over at him suspiciously, but seemed not to notice or hear the hushed hissing sounds that did not carry well through the still library air.

"I have not. Curioussss, isssn't it? But I would not worry. He isss like a fire. Sssometimesss a sssteady flame that isss unwavering and other timess volitile and ready to burn thossse who get too clossse. He will return when hisss inferno coolsss sssomewhat," the snake replied sagely. "I take it you're worried about him?"

"Of course I'm worried, but not about him," Ryou replied indignantly. "I'm more worried about the rest of the school. I can't feel him at all and he could have killed a teacher. And anything he does will be blamed on me since we look as similar as we do. He ruins everything and makes my life an eternal hell."

"Now, now. He isssn't ssso bad. Do not forget, Bakura isss fire. Fire feedss from emotionssss that are raw and pure. You yoursself underssstand, I presume? One mussst know true pain to fear that which issss lesssser. Jusst asssss you worry about otherss from the losss of thossse you love, Bakura too hasss a ssstrong opinion about how to presssserve hiss ssssanity. You two sssimply ssssee it differently."

"True pain? What sort of true pain? Bakura doesn't feel pain. He's the coldest fire I've ever seen," Ryou said, slightly bitterly. "He's always mean and heartless. And selfish. I can't forget selfish."

"But what about when Bakura wassss young? You know hiss parents died asss yoursss did. You believe he doesss not think about that every day he hass ever been alive? That he relivessss it in hiss nightmaress assss you do your own?"

Ryou clamped his hands over his ears. "I don't care. Bakura needs to know that he can't take it out on others. There's a right way to grieve and a wrong way."

"Sssso you deem it inappropriate for him to fixsssate on you asss his way of grieving?"

Ryou frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"You know Bakura focussssess all hiss attentionss on you becaussse he cannot ssstand to losssse anyone he caresss for. It iss why he brought me back from Osssirisss'sss clutches and why he doesss not allow anyone to touch you."

"I don't see how that's true pain. I know he was lonely when he was little, and that he grew up as an orphan in Egypt, but I still don't see why that would make him into a psychopath."

"Do you remember the boggart from the musssty housse? How everyone you loved fell into a pot of liquid gold?"

"Of course I do. How could I forget something as terrible as that? I didn't even know I was afraid of something like that before it happened."

"What you witnesssssed wasssss Bakura's greatest fear, assss well asss hiss worssst memory. Everyone he knew and loved wasss murdered before hisss eyess to create the very item you wear on your neck right now. Their soulsss will not ressst until Bakura unitesss them. He hearsss them sssscreaming for vengeance every time he clossess hiss eyess. And you wonder why he doess not wish to lose more of thossse he cares for," the snake scoffed.

Ryou could only stare at the book on the table before him, mouth gaping open with shock. Bakura had certainly never told him that side of the story. Bakura had only ever said he had raised himself on the mean, unforgiving Egyptian streets and that his parents had died when he was young. He had never made a mention of how, and Ryou had never even bothered to ask. Guilt nagged at his heart as this dawned on him. Was Bakura a monster for the same reason that Ryou considered him one? Bakura, mean because his family and friends were killed before his eyes, and Ryou thinking he was mean because all Ryou had ever known was that, surely, people who cared didn't hurt those they loved?

Maybe... if Bakura cared, that meant his father did, too. Ryou smiled softly, closing his eyes. To think there was good in the people Ryou least expected... it felt so nice to consider. But Bakura didn't care for him, and neither did his father. The truth was harsh, no matter how much Ryou wished he could see them so positively. Bakura kept Ryou around for convenience's sake. There was no affection, and no grounds for such a silly notion, either. Everything Bakura did was a calculated piece of a larger plan, and Ryou could play along or always be miserable. It was better to simply take the good where it came and hope the bad was rare and fast.

The room, that was probably being used as a secret headquarters for Bakura's next over-orchestrated scheme right at this very moment. A room such as that one had to have a second purpose.

Absently, Ryou glanced down at the book before him. _Benevolent Botanicals_ was the title. The page before him described the many uses of murtlap, and Ryou smiled again. It looked like it would help his hand very much, and if Ryou ever found Bakura, he could send the spirit out to find some. If he ever found Bakura. The smile slipped away and Ryou sighed. Just where had that spirit gotten off to?

Oh well. He still had to practice for charms class, something he couldn't do very well here, before classes started. He needed to go up to his secret room sooner rather than later if he wanted to get the spell down before his first class.

"Where are you going?" he asked Uraeus, who had slipped to the floor while Ryou was lost in thought.

"I'm going for a nice sssslither around the castle. You sssseem like you have better thingsss to do."

"Don't get caught," Ryou warned.

The snake only laughed at him. "Like I would get caught. There are passsssages in the wallsss fit for sssserpentsss that I shall take. No one will sssssee me. I can meet you at your private room before your firsssst classs, if you would like," he offered.

Ryou smiled and nodded. "Thank you, I would like that. Goodbye Uraeus, have a nice walk, uh slither. And if you see Bakura, tell him to pick up some murtlap from the potions room. I need some for my hand. It's not a big deal, though, if you don't see him. I can get some from Potions after lunch."

The snake nodded and slipped out of the library, sticking to the shadows where light wouldn't be able to touch his bright scales. Humans streamed a thousand different directions around him, repulsive with the aroma of life and mortality and rippling with the strangest magic conceivable. He kept his mouth tightly shut to help keep the stench at bay.

A niche in the wall allowed him to slip into the vast labyrinth of wall tunnels, large enough for a snake many times Uraeus's size and easily accessible for a serpent as small as him. He knew where Bakura was, not that he'd ever tell the hikari. It was at Bakura's request.

When Uraeus heard the sound of rattling chains, he knew he was getting close. Bakura had spent the first day or two wrecking havoc with Peeves, but it hadn't really distracted him as much as he had hoped it would. Bakura eventually gave up and did what he did best- sit silently and skulk. The Bloody Baron was the best company for this.

"Ryou issssn't angry, you know. Well, he isss a little, but he isss more worried that you're away."

"I heard. And he's just worried that I'll do something, he's not worried about me. I really fucked up big time," Bakura grumbled.

He was semi-corporeal and seated in the corner of the highest floor of the North Tower. His legs were drawn up to his chest. If it wasn't for the black expression on his face and general, disheveled appearance, he would have looked like a ghostly Ryou. His black coat pooled around him and dissolved into nothingness the further it got from Bakura's body. From his seat, Bakura glared moodily at Uraeus.

The snake wiggled in what was almost a shrug. "Ssstill, I do think you sshould ssstop sssulking up here. I thought you wanted to protect him from himssself."

"I do! But he's self-destructive when he's upset and I don't want to push him more than he already is."

"You know, that'sss your own fault," Uraeus said. "You told me yourssself, Ryou wouldn't have been like thiss if you hadn't messssed him up ssso badly asss a child. But that'sss done and gone. He doesssn't hold you resssponsssible. And you alssso said that you wanted to make it up to him. Sssso what are you going to do about it?"

"I haven't decided," he growled. "When it comes to that blasted Pharaoh, I can think of a thousand different plans and tactics. The items, the same. But I can't think of a single thing to do when it comes to Yadonushi."

"If it helpssss, Ryou assked for a favor."

Bakura looked surprised. "He did?"

"He ssssaid that he needed murtlap. Perhapsss if you brought it to him before hiss potionss classs, he would forgive you for your near-outburst. It would alssso give you an opportunity to, with a clear conssscience, think of a way to gain hiss approval. The sssituation will only make your judgement more clouded."

"I know, I know," Bakura snapped. "Some emotion is good. Too much is bad. And worrying about it makes it harder to think. I can handle it. Now go back to hikari. Stay close to him. Don't let him hurt himself. You've been making him eat, right? I don't know why he's starving himself, but I don't approve."

"I've been making him take me to the Great Hall for breakfasst, if that'ss what you're assking. What he eatss iss hiss own decisssion."

Bakura let his head fall back and hit the wall. "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink. And Yadonushi is the only horse I've ever seen that's as stubborn as me."

"Jussst like mulesss, the two of you. Refusssing to concede even an inch. Makesss my job near imposssible," Uraeus grumbled. "Ssee you later, Bakura. Perhapsss today? It hass been nearly a week, you know."

"Perhaps. I'll think about it."

* * *

**When I added Uraeus, I didn't expect him to be so useful as a plot device. But actually, he's helping me bridge a couple of things together that I would otherwise struggle with. I'm surprisingly really glad to have him. I hope he doesn't irritate you. But if he does, I can make his role smaller, you just have to say so, alright? I don't want him to outgrow his usefulness. **

**As usual, please review!**

**Slytherin jokes:**

**How many Gryffindors does it take to screw in a lightbulb? ****Doesn't matter, only one will claim all the fame and glory for it anyway. **

**How do you keep a Gryffindor in suspense? *Walk away***

**How many Slytherins does it take to light up a light bulb? Just one to blackmail a Ravenclaw.**

**EDITS: Fixed the lack of underlining in some places (gahhh, that annoying underlining!) and replaced Ryou's name with 'hikari' and 'yadonushi' where applicable.**


	14. Chapter 14

**As usual, if anything I say contradicts something else, simply smile and nod. I will fix it later. I've finally thrown together a loose outline of the next few chapter, so yea for that, yeah? ****And for the record, I did go back and reread. I noticed several things that need fixing already. Others I'm just going to try to make work.**

**I hate this chapter. It has nothing to do with anything but the way it was written, and is entirely my fault. Everything just... sucks, because it's almost entirely setting things up for the next few chapters. I'm sorry, I failed you. I'll strive to do better next chapter and fix this one later. Also, if you didn't notice in the last chapter, underlining completely bitched out. I don't know if it's fixed yet. I'm trying. Should be smooth sailing from here on out, though.**

**Also, the font was fixed! I have my site-wide Verdana back! Happy authors have more motivation to write. True fact. **

* * *

Duck down, slip through the shadows. Hide from sight. Person? No problem. Bakura was as good as invisible, even when he was solid.

Sometimes solid was simply more fun.

Bakura slipped into the potions room as silently as a snake, bound and determined on his mission to recover the murtlap that his hikari desired. He would get this right, and then perhaps Yadonushi wouldn't be as upset.

Just inside, the Potions Master was perusing the shelves at one end of the room. He held a book just below his hook nose as he skimmed the text for the recipe of a specific potion. Bakura's feet made no noise as they made their way to the storeroom.

Taking a quick glance around the tiny room, he let his thumb and forefinger come up to stroke absently at his chin. Hikari wanted murtlap, right? Just what sort of murtlap did he want? There was a small tanks labeled 'live murtlap' that contained tiny, rattish creatures with anemone-like growths on their backs, jars of full tentacles that seemed to be pickling in a yellowish brine, and several flasks of something labeled 'essence of murtlap'.

He picked up a jar and studied its contents with a frown. Uraeus had just said murtlap. Not essence of murtlap, not live murtlap, and not murtlap tentacles. Just murtlap. Bakura almost groaned. He couldn't ask Yadonushi, either. That would require opening up the mind link and Bakura wasn't so sure hikari would appreciate that just yet. Bakura frowned. He didn't even know what Yadonushi wanted it for. Gingerly, he replaced it on the shelf, making sure it didn't rattle against the other glass jars and stoppered phials.

Perhaps the essence? It seemed... likely. But Bakura had never seen murtlap before (it had never been brought down to Egypt) and didn't know what it was used for, so he couldn't be too sure. He picked up one of the flasks and gave it a cursory look.

Suddenly Snape's voice drifted silkily into the room from the doorway. "Ah, Mister Bakura. Why are you in my potion stores when you should be in your first class?"

Bakura turned slowly, his sneer matching Snape's perfectly. "Close, but no cigar," he replied. With a cheery wave, he allowed himself to vanish from sight, and he did what he hadn't done since he had left Yadonushi all those long days ago. He returned to the soul room and allowed their minds to once again reconnect.

* * *

When Bakura came back, Ryou had been slightly surprised. But Bakura had been calm, and silent when he had done so, as if slinking home after a less than successful excursion. Uncharacteristic for him. But they weren't doing anything in Umbridge's class, as usual, and Ryou had already read the chapters they were assigned, so he cautiously approached Bakura in his soul room as if approaching a lion that could lunge at any time.

"Bakura?" he asked tentatively, tilting his head to the side.

Bakura looked up from where he sat cross-legged on the bed, fiddling with a glass bottle of murky yellow liquid.

"Where'd you go, Bakura? You just... vanished."

"I got you this," Bakura replied, not answering the question. He held up the yellow liquid. "I, uh, I'll just put it in your bag," he added. He started to dissolve, but Ryou suddenly threw up a hand and cried 'wait!'. Bakura paused. He was watching Ryou closely, as if suspecting something he didn't see the need to voice.

Ryou smiled at his yami. "Thanks."

"I suppose you're welcome, Yadonushi."

"Why did you go?" Ryou asked. He timidly held his hands together behind his back, twiddling the thumbs nervously. "You didn't get into any trouble, did you? Nobody saw you?"

"I can only answer one question at a time," Bakura said, grinning in amusement. Ryou blushed slightly in embarrassment, but Bakura ignored it. "It doesn't really matter why I went. I can go where I want when I want, correct? And nobody saw me. Well, except maybe Snape, but I don't really care too much about that. So no, no trouble. Well, not much, anyway. So, what did I miss in magic land while I was gone?"

"Well, not too much... I guess..." Ryou mumbled. He brightened suddenly. "Oh, Draco said he would teach me more about Quidditch. He saw my broom in my trunk and asked if I was any good, so when I told him I never actually played before, he said he'd get the entire Slytherin team to practice with me!"

"Doesn't that seem oddly generous to you?"

"No. Why, should it? Draco just wants to make up for lost time. He said families should be close, especially purebloods, and that helping one another was what they do to stay close."

Bakura frowned. "I don't like it. Seems... suspicious to me."

"What's there to be suspicious of?" Ryou asked.

Bakura narrowed his eyes. "You know, I'm thinking that there's something you aren't telling me. I can just tell. Something about you is... off."

"Not really," Ryou said evasively. "I don't think I forgot to mention anything..."

"That isn't what I was talking about. I think... I think it has nothing to do with Draco, actually. Whatever you're keeping from me has to do with you, Yadonushi. And you know how much I hate secrets." Ryou swallowed guiltily. "What is it you're hiding from me?"

Ryou bit his lip. "Remember that nightmare from the first night? The one with the cauldron?" Bakura's expression quickly grew dark. "It's back."

"How long? You don't look like you've gone too long without sleep," Bakura said cautiously.

"Since shortly after you left. I've been using the foundation Malik gave me to hide the shadows under my eyes," Ryou replied, voice meek. Bakura sighed, aggravated.

"Just go back to class, hikari. You're missing that witch's lesson. We can talk more later."

Ryou nodded and allowed himself to return to his body, feeling for some reason like he'd won a small battle and yet lost the war. The essence of murtlap would be excellent on his hand and offer a small bit of relief from that, and it was wonderful that Bakura had finally returned without causing any major havoc. But Ryou wasn't particularly happy about having to admit to what Ryou himself would have liked nothing better than to ignore- the dream.

Why did it continue to haunt him, now of all times? Now, when stress was burning him up inside and he had enough to worry about already? At least he was done with detention. That would certainly make things easier by giving him more time in the evenings to himself. Ryou sighed into his book, which laid open on the table before him.

He was pretty good at the whole 'faking it in class thing', or so he liked to think. He'd been doing it for years. It wasn't so much that Ryou didn't care about school, he really did, it was simply incredibly difficult to keep track of where he was supposed to be in his studies when every school had a different idea about what their students needed to learn. Ryou had simply gotten used to teaching himself through books and without a teacher.

But this class was proving difficult. He could never get enough time to himself to learn the spells, and he actually wasn't that great at some of them. Some of the defensive magic was _hard_. Charms could be simple enough. He liked charms. Scourgify was his current favorite, since it saved him valuable time cleaning. And some of the darker hexes in the Black family library were shockingly simple. But some were just... hard.

Ryou turned the page, his eyes already glossing over as he reread the text, tuning out Umbridge's girlish voice. Eventually the bells chimed and class ended, none too soon, either, and Ryou packed his things quickly. His hand itched and burned like crazy. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, a glass bottle appeared on the table beside his bag, and Ryou smiled.

/_Thank you_/ he said softly.

/It's nothing/ Bakura scoffed. /Now about about the dream-/

"Hey, Ryou," Draco called, and Ryou glanced at his cousin. "Don't forget that practice is tonight."

/People always cut me off/ Bakura grumbled, but he was ignored.

"I won't!" Ryou replied, grabbing the bottle and bag and hurrying over to join him. "I'm really looking forward to it."

"We should probably show up a little early though. Didn't you say you've never flown before?" Ryou shook his head. "Shame. Flying is great. There's really nothing to it."

"That's good," Ryou chirped. "I... I'm just a little nervous. I wouldn't want to fall off!" he added with a nervous chuckle.

"You'll be fine. Will Bakura be flying too? I haven't seen him in a while."

"Oh... Bakura?" Ryou asked cautiously. "I don't know. I'd have to ask him." /_Would you like to_-/

/Not really. I'd prefer to keep my feet on the ground. There's not really any point in knowing how, is there?/

/_It's not for any point but fun_/

/I fail to see how sitting precariously in the air on a piece of wood is supposed to be fun/

/_Fine, be that way_/ Ryou said simply. "He doesn't want to."

"That's a shame," Draco said. "I haven't seen him in a while. What's he been up to?"

"Oh, this and that... Mostly keeping to himself lately. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious is all. Bakura is... interesting."

/Tell him I say thanks/ Bakura said, sounding thoroughly amused.

Ryou passed on the message as they walked into their next class, smiling. Suddenly, this day was looking up. Ryou wasn't particularly sure why, but it was a bit of a relief to hear that someone other than Marik and Malik could put up with Ryou's hard-to-live-with spirit. Ryou wasn't treated as a freak, but as a person who just happened to have a strange friend who didn't stick around much and liked eavesdropping more than he should. It was refreshing.

* * *

At the midday break, Ryou took the chance to head off to the Room of Requirement and fill a bowl full of the murtlap that Bakura retrieved. Placing his hand inside was sheer bliss, and he was reluctant to leave when it came time to head to Care of Magical Creatures.

As he approached the outdoor classroom, Ryou was surprised to find Umbridge waiting with a clipboard at the ready, chatting with Professor Grubbly-Plank.

"What's she doing here?" Ryou asked Draco, who was already standing there beside his over-large cronies. Ryou's head was tilted faintly to one side in confusion.

Draco looked equally confused. "Didn't you read the _Prophet _this morning? Professor Umbridge is the Hogwarts High Inquisitor. She's evaluating the teachers."

"Really? Why?"

Draco smirked. "In case you hadn't noticed, some of the professors here aren't... up to par. C'mon, let's get closer," he said, sounding almost eager. But it was too late to hear what the two were saying to each other, and Grubbly-Plank was already calling the class together to begin. Ryou found himself watching Umbridge nervously as she went around the class, occasionally asking them questions about mythical beasts. Half of the creatures sounded like things Ryou himself had never heard of, and Ryou was relieved that she never came up to him.

She did, however, turn to Goyle and ask him one of the final questions. "Now I hear there have been injuries in this class?" But before Goyle could even answer, Draco volunteered.

"That was me. I was slashed by a hippogriff," he said, looking very pleased with himself.

"A hippogriff?" she asked, scribbling notes down on her atrocious pink clipboard.

"Only because he was too stupid to listen to what Hagrid told him to do," Harry yelled, and Ryou glanced up in surprise. Why had Harry spoken out like that? Was this petty feud enough of a vendetta that they felt the need to vindicate themselves before administrators?

But Umbridge only smiled at Harry. "Another night's detention, I think," she said, and Ryou glanced back at Draco, feeling somewhat confused.

"Is it true about the hippogriff?" he asked.

Draco nodded dramatically, and Pansy gasped as if it were a big deal. "Oh, it was horrible!" she said.

"There I was, minding my own business, and the bloody brute just lashed out at me!" he said.

Ryou frowned. "No, I mean... Never mind," he said in a small voice. His question had just been answered for him. The others began packing up their things, and Ryou slowly joined them. At a snail's pace, he pulled his bag onto his shoulder, only then noticing how far away the others were.

"Hey, Ryou, you coming?" Blaise called, and Ryou shook his head.

"You go on without me, I'll catch up in a second!" he replied. For a moment, he could have sworn he saw Pansy wink, but he decided it was his imagination.

"Harry, you're bleeding again!" he heard softly, and Ryou glanced over at the trio of people he had once thought of as friends. Smears of red decorated the back of Harry's hand, and Ryou was struck by the familiarity of it all. He glanced at his own hand for a split second, considering the gloves he still wore despite how much better his hand was looking lately, and how nice it had felt to submerge his hand in the murtlap.

Without even thinking about it, he said shyly as he walked by, "try essence of murtlap. It really does help." He smiled gently and, without waiting for a reply, started jogging to catch up with his Slytherin friends.

He didn't reach them until they had already made it to the castle. "What took you so long, Ryou?" Draco jeered, grinning. "Those arrogant lions didn't give you a hard time, did they?"

Ryou smiled. "No, of course not," he said. He glanced up at the ceiling as he walked past the great hall. The Gryffindors really weren't _that _arrogant. Actually, truth be told, Ryou thought the Slytherins were a little more obvious with their haughty behavior. Sure, many of the Gryffindors were very prideful, but Malfoy was a veritable peacock, no different from the snowy ones his family kept on their expansive lawns. Gryffindors were only a little different from Slytherins, in a way. Actually, Ryou thought it was just a little funny that the two were so similar and yet so very different.

The rest of the day passed very quickly. When Ryou's final class ended, he was practically skipping from his excitement.

"Could you not do that?" Draco asked, and Ryou realized that there was no 'practically' about it. He was skipping. "That's not a very Slytherin-like thing to do."

With a faint blush, Ryou stopped. "Sorry," he muttered, grinning to himself.

/Good Ra, calm down. You're just sitting on a flying stick, not winning the lottery/ Bakura snapped.

Ryou giggled. Draco glanced at him curiously and Ryou shrugged. "Just Bakura being grumpy is all," he said. They made their way quickly down to the dungeons and entered the Slytherin common room only long enough to grab the things they needed- Ryou his broom and Draco his robes. "I didn't know you were Seeker," Ryou admitted as they headed up to the Quidditch pitch.

"You didn't?" Draco asked, and he had a gloating grin on his face. "Well, I'm pretty good if I do say so myself. You're learning from one of the best."

"One of?" Ryou asked. It didn't sound like a very Draco-like thing for him to say. Ryou has assumed Draco considered himself without parallel. He knew he had said the wrong thing when his cousin's face grew sour.

"Blasted Potter," he hissed. "I'll beat him. Next game, we'll win."

Ryou wasn't fully sure what to say to that, and allowed Draco to fume in silence the rest of the way. Draco was back to his usual preening self quickly, though, and by the time Ryou could feel the finely manicured lawn of the pitch beneath his feet, Draco was dealing out instructions as if Quidditch were life and death rather than a fun game.

"The first thing you're going to do is put your broom on the ground," Draco instructed, laying his own on the pitch by his feet. When Ryou had copied him, he continued, "Then you're going to pick it up."

Ryou blinked. Hadn't he just put it down? He bent over, only to hear a noise of protest from his cousin.

"No! Don't just grovel on the ground like a muggle," Draco said, looking irritated. "You're going to tell your broom 'Up!' and make it come to you."

"You can do that?" Ryou asked, gazing down at the broom.

"Yes, you can do that. Up!" Draco said, and his broom rose up into his hand.

"Wow!" Ryou cried, delighted. He looked back at his own again. "Up." Ryou watched it flop, dismayed. Malfoy had made it look easy...

"You have to be firm. Try again."

"Up," Ryou repeated, trying to harden his voice. The broom strained slightly into the air, fighting gravity for a vain moment before falling back down. He groaned loudly. This was so much harder than he though it would be. "Up. Up!"

/You have to get mean. Not that you'd know anything about that/

/_I know how to be mean! I just... don't want to be_/ "Up!" he tried again.

/Let me try/ Bakura said, and Ryou stepped back with an exasperated sight.

"Up!" Bakura said simply, giving the broom a solid glare. It snapped up immediately, and Bakura caught it easily with a thief's reflexes. He nodded to himself, a small smirk on his face. /That's how it's done/

/_Seriously? I want to try again_/ Ryou said.

Bakura sighed, relinquishing control. /Fine. I can see nothing good coming from this/

Ryou dropped the broom, giving it a hard look. "Up!" he commanded, and finally the broom rose as quickly as before. But Ryou's reflexes, unhoned and out of practice, missed grabbing it. It smacked him soundly in the face.

Draco chuckled gently. "Looks like someone's ready to play. Not even in the air yet and you're already bleeding?"

Ryou, holding his nose to stem the flow of blood, smiled. "I heard this sport was dangerous, but I hadn't realized it was quite like this!"

/You two are... awkward/

/_Am not_/

/Are, too. You're both trying too hard. It's weird/ Bakura said just as Malfoy replied.

"Well, the team's practice is in half an hour, so let's get flying."

"Sounds good."

Draco tightened his grip on the broom as he explained the basics of flying as if itching to be in the air rather than just talk about it. Ryou couldn't help but notice the slight note of excitement in his voice, and a determination to win, to be the best.

It was different from the way he acted around his friends, and from how he acted around his family. This particular Draco wasn't afraid to do whatever it took to claim victory. Hard work, subterfuge and dirty tricks, it would all be the same. This Draco did it to win at the sport he clearly enjoyed. He wouldn't stand for defeat.

Ryou quite liked the sound of that- having something you were so passionate about that you'd do anything. Anything to win, to be the best, to be _happy_. Ryou wished he had something like that. He liked games well enough, but he wouldn't do anything and everything just to win. Bakura might, though, Ryou thought, slightly amused.

/If I wanted something, I would stop at nothing until it was mine/ Bakura confirmed. /Even now, even after failure, I still scheme and plan and consider every possible outcome that is standing between me and my immanent victory. So yes, you are correct/

Ryou smiled softly as he threw a leg over the broom.

/It isn't as wonderful as you seem to think, you know. Sometimes it sucks royally/

/If you say so/ Ryou relied, but the little smile that teased his lips never vanished. With a start, he realized Draco was kicking off the ground, and it was his turn next. He tightened his grip. Al he had to do was push up and supposedly the broom would carry him into the skies. Just that simple. Nothing so difficult as shadow magic. Wonderful.

But there was also a strange tightness in Ryou's throat. Nervousness clenched at his heart. What if he fell? If he stuck close to the ground, a fall wouldn't result in more than a broken bone or two, but if he got too high... Pale and sick-looking, Ryou decided he would stick close to the ground.

/Perhaps a good choice/ Bakura said.

With a bleak nod, Ryou crouched down slightly and, resigned, pushed off.

Ryou wasn't fully sure what he'd been expecting when he took off. Maybe he'd rocket uncontrollably into the sky. Maybe nothing at all, and he'd land back on his feet with a cleaning implement between his legs, feeling like an idiot. But, eyes closed tightly in mild terror, he found himself sitting on the broom with his toes skimming the earth. How... anti-climactic.

"Ryou, are you just going to sit there or are you going to get up here?" Draco called, and Ryou whipped his heard around to find his cousin floating casually by one of the goal posts, relaxing almost lazily on the expensive broom. He was so high up...

"I-I'm coming," Ryou called nervously. He'd never really been scared of heights before, but as he leaned forward and lifted the nose of the broom, he trembled faintly with every foot he rose. He wasn't so sure about this. Still, Ryou gradually began to relax as he realized the broom was doing only what he wanted it to do. It responded to him like an extension of himself. Maybe there really was nothing to this flying thing.

His heart was still thudding in his chest, but it was fast becoming less due to nerves and increasingly due to his old excitement that he'd felt all day. It was exciting, like a roller coaster rising up into the clouds. Irresistibly thrilling.

But when he reached Draco, when he made it to the top of the proverbial roller coaster, and made the mistake of looking down, his heart stopped. The coaster was looming dangerously close to plummeting; the broom seemed tiny beneath him. If he fell, he'd be utterly at gravity's mercy or lack thereof. He gasped.

"Fantastic, isn't it?" Draco mused.

"It's... high," he could only say.

"You look like you're going to have a heart attack. Come on, let's do a few laps," he laughed and he began to drift away. "Just relax. The broom will do all of the work."

"A-alright!" he said.

He followed at a snail's pace, but as he went, he began to build speed as his confidence rose. By the time he reached Draco, who was making slow, lazy laps around the pitch, his fingers were no longer bone from clenching too tightly to the wood. He had started to relax a bit, and was actually beginning to enjoy himself. Ryou put on a bit of sped and pulled up beside his cousin.

"This is actually really fun!" Ryou chirped.

"Of course it is. And playing games is even better. But you have to be able to fly well first. Come on, let's go faster."

"Just how fast can these brooms go?" Ryou asked as he eased forward more, keeping pace.

Draco grinned. Like a bullet, he took off, becoming a blur in the sky that looped and dodged invisible opponents. Ryou's eyes struggled to follow and he glided to a stop to watch. Draco was _fast_, faster than Ryou dared to go. But Ryou was curious. Maybe he could go just a little faster... He'd have to, if he was going to keep up with his cousin.

As the blur that was Draco began another lap, Ryou pushed himself forward and picked up speed. The broom never went as fast as Draco's, and Ryou didn't think it even could if he had wanted, but eventually Draco led him through a few quick exercises and maneuvers that he claimed any proficient flyer needed to know. Most of them were for dodging obstacles and such, and Ryou noticed that Draco had used several while demonstrating. They weren't so bad, and, half an hour later, he found himself very comfortable on the broom. He was actually glad he had bought it.

"Alright, the others are going to start showing up soon, so how about I just show you one more and we call it good so I can get the equipment?" Draco finally said.

"Yes, please," Ryou said.

Draco nodded. "This one is called the Sloth Roll Grip. It's a little harder than the others, but it isn't too bad so long as you're going fast enough. It's one of the best ways to dodge a bludger, so it's good to know."

He demonstrated once, flying in a straight line just long enough to do a simple barrel roll as he went. He lingered upside down for only a second, and the effect was very like a sloth clinging to a branch. Draco made the move look effortless.

As he returned back to Ryou's side, he said, "so, do you think you can handle that?"

"I think so," Ryou replied, re-situating himself on the broom.

/I don't like the look of this. Knowing you, you'll probably end up falling off/

/_I've been doing just fine all day. This trick isn't any more difficult than the last one_/

/The last one didn't involve going upside down/ Bakura growled.

/It'll be fine/ Ryou said, and he began to fly, pouring on as much speed as he dared. He didn't want to push the broom, and he was still a bit hesitant to go too fast, but he was ready to try. As wind began to tug at his hair, he leaned to the side just as Draco had done and felt the broom begin to spin. He held tight, fingers screaming and legs wrapped around the broom, and he just managed to keep a hold until he was right-side up. Sloth Grip indeed. With a shout of victory, Ryou threw his fists in the air.

"I did it! I did it! I di-" Ryou's voice cut out abruptly into a blood curling scream. The broom had wobbled without his hands to hold it steady. Ryou was falling.

It happened as if in slow motion, although that was impossible. His brain was simply taking everything in so fast that every millisecond felt like an entire minute of terror. Falling. He was falling, and the broom was just out of reach of his fingertips.

Below him, the ground looked so far away that it was almost dreamlike. He closed his eyes in terror as the wind bit his face. Maybe the fear had stopped his heart and, without blood, his brain was beginning to imagine things that weren't there, because he could almost swear he felt arms surround him with warmth and turn him around. A burst of cold darkness enveloped him and and the embrace was the only thing that sheltered him from being utterly swallowed by the effects of dappled violet shadows.

A sudden burst of light flashed against his closed eyelids and he hit the ground with a loud gasp. Too soon. The ground should have been much farther away, and much harder. Something had cushioned his fall. Something had cut the forty foot fall, which would have certainly been fatal, down to something much shorter. His wrist hurt like hell from landing oddly, but he was alive.

Alive, and laying with his head on Bakura's chest.

"Ryou, are you alright?" Draco asked, coming back down from the upper reaches of the roiling grey sky. Dazed, Ryou sat up as slowly as he could manage without putting weight on the wrist that screamed in agony with every movement. His head still swam, and he put his good hand to his forehead.

"Ughh..." Ryou moaned. His eyes focused. "What happened?"

"You- you fell off your broom and just- I don't even know," Draco said, his gaze bouncing between Ryou and Bakura. "How did you do that?" he said, directing the question towards Bakura.

"Can't breathe," Bakura only said, and Ryou scooted back so he'd no longer be sitting on Bakura's chest.

"You saved me," Ryou said in a small voice.

"If you hadn't been so damn clumsy, I wouldn't have had to," Bakura growled. "Now get off me. And stop looking at me like that. It's creepy."

Ryou slid off of Bakura's hips unsteadily, but the warm little smile didn't leave his lips.

"How did you do that?" Draco asked again. "It isn't possible to apparate on school grounds."

Bakura groaned as he sat up. Clearly, breaking Ryou's fall, no matter how rail thin the boy was, hadn't been fun. Bakura stood.

"I didn't appar-whatever-you-call-it," he said moodily. "And I said stop looking at me like that!"

Ryou's smile widened slightly, but quickly faded to a wince as his wrist was tweaked. "Ow," he muttered to himself.

"That looks broken," Draco observed.

None-to-graciously, Bakura grabbed Ryou's hand and gave the wrist a cursory glance. "Yeah, it's broken. I could probably fix it for you, but it'd hurt like a-"

"It's fine, I'll just go to the hospital wing," Ryou said quickly, taking his wrist back. "Sorry I can't join in on practice," he said to his cousin.

"It's fine. Get that wrist fixed up, alright?" Draco said. Ryou nodded.

"Yeah, thanks," he called as he picked up his broom from where it had landed. Bakura was gone, and the first of the Slytherin team was streaming onto the field. With an awkward wave, Ryou jogged off the pitch.

"Hey, Malfoy, I thought your cousin was going to join us," one of the beaters said, approaching with a large box under his arm.

"Broke his wrist," Malfoy said coldly. "Remind me to write my father later..."

* * *

Ryou left the hospital wing a while later exhausted and with his wrist bound tightly in a splint that had been magicked onto his wrist by Madam Pomfrey. It was nice that it eased much of the pain by immobilizing the limb, but he'd have to leave it on for a few days before he would be fully healed. His eyes were burning, and his entire arm was sore. And, no longer on his adrenaline high from the fall, Ryou had crashed and was ready to go to bed.

But as he walked into the common room, having convinced the matron that he'd recover better sleeping in his four-poster bed than the uncomfortable cots of the hospital wing, he realized this wouldn't be possible. It only took one person to notice the splint and ask about it, and then the entire Slytherin house, or so it seemed, was listening to Ryou recount the story. Ryou noticed a high proportion of those assembled were girls. Embarrassed that so many people were actually paying attention to him, he was sure to leave out all the details of Bakura.

Halfway through the tale, the Slytherin Quidditch team entered the room. Most went upstairs to bathe, but Draco took a seat beside Pansy with an amused smirk on his face. Ryou, sitting by the arm of the sofa, was pinned between the sofa arm and the girl who cooed and stroked the splint with a similar fondness she often showed solely to Draco.

"Draco showed me how to do the Sloth Roll Grip, and even though I was nervous, I was pretty sure I could pull it off. So I started flying faster, and I actually did it,"

"Quite well for a first time, I might add," Draco chimed. Ryou smiled as a round of congrats were passed around. Draco's approval was a powerful thing, and highly influential in Slytherin house.

"I was just thrilled to do it right, so I took my hands off the broom for a moment, and, well, the broom just bucked. It all happened so fast, I don't really know what exactly I did to slow myself down," Ryou said, blushing modestly.

Bakura rolled his eyes. /Yes, you slowed yourself down/

"Wasn't it-" Draco began, but Ryou's eyes flashed at him pleadingly. The thought was there, even if it was never spoken. _Don't say it. Don't mention Bakura_. Draco nodded almost imperceptibly and Ryou smiled. "A spell of some sort?" he finished.

"Yeah, something like that. As if something just came over me and stopped the fall," Ryou said with a tiny, wry grin.

"How brave," Pansy breathed, and Ryou caught a brief look of disdain from Draco. Ryou supposed he deserved it, even if he hadn't asked for it. Pansy was Draco's girlfriend after all. But it still wasn't his fault if Pansy had cuddled up beside him after he had sat down.

/I don't see how that's in any way, shape, or form brave/

Ryou hummed softly to himself and let his head fall back on the chair with a yawn. He was tired... On top of all of today's excitement, he still hadn't gotten much sleep over the course of the week, mostly due to that horrific nightmare.

"It's late..." he murmured. "I haven't done my homework either. Sorry, guys. I think I'm going to turn in for the night," he apologized to everyone.

"But wait, you didn't finish the story!" a sixth-year said. She pouted at Ryou and he stifled his tired smile.

"There really isn't much more to tell... I got up and my wrist hurt, so I headed up to the hospital wing. And that's that," Ryou said simply.

"But how did you do it? That's amazing, that anyone could be thinking so clearly while they're falling to their death to save themselves!" she said.

"I guess I just got lucky, is all. That, or I've got a guardian angel watching out for me," Ryou laughed.

Bakura seethed. /I'm about as far from a fucking angel as you can get/

/_I'm just teasing_/ Ryou said. "

* * *

Bakura could just make out the soft whisper on Ryou's lips as the boy fell back asleep, the gentle mutter of, "My guardian angel has such sandy, black wings," before the breathing steadied out and became long and slow and easy for the first time in a week. Bakura smiled fondly at Ryou.

"You've got it bad," Uraeus breathed with a slight chuckle.

Bakura fixed a venomous stare on the serpent and extricated himself from Ryou's arms as carefully he could without waking him. "Do not," he whispered back, leading the snake down to the empty common room where they wouldn't disturb Ryou and the other sleeping Slytherins.

"Yes, you do," Uraeus retorted. "I haven't ssseen you sssmile like that sssince, well... ever. You've never made a faccce like that. You have to be in love with the kid."

"I'm not!" Bakura growled, kicking a table to dispel some of his irritation. His fist twitched spasmodically and he had a snarl on his face. As the decorative vase on top of the table clattered noisily onto its side, Bakura let out a sigh. "Well, maybe a little," he conceded. "I just... I just don't want to lose him like I've lost everything else. Does that make any sense?"

"Of courssse it doess. The pharaoh takesss everything from you without fail, and you know that if you're too clossse to Ryou, you'll losse him, too. It'ss perfectly normal to feel thiss way. It meanss you're human."

"But I'm not human! I'm dead, and I have been for thousands of years. I'm not just a greedy tomb robber, I'm a cradle robber."

"Ryou'sss a big boy, he can make hisss own decisionsss. And he'sss legal, if you want to get technical. Not that you're worried about _that_."

Bakura leered. "That's disgusting, don't even say that. It doesn't make me feel better."

"I know you were thinking it. You may lack human hormoness, but you sstill remember how they felt. Or at leasst, your ssubconsciouss doess. And your sssubconsciouss wants to nail the pretty little boy that would have been worth hiss weight in gold in Ancient Egypt."

"You... you're picking up slang far too quickly for my taste," Bakura only said, frowning.

"You're avoiding. Tell me it'ss not true," Uraeus pressed with a fanged grin.

"Fine, it is. Is that what you want me to say? That when Hikari landed on me, and was sitting on me, all I could think about was how much I just wanted to- gah! No, I don't want to say it," Bakura growled.

"Sssay it," Uraeus sang.

Bakura's eyes flashed in the darkness. "Don't forget, I brought you into this world, I can take you out."

"Oh, fine... I've presssed you enough tonight. At leasst you admitted that much," Uraeus chuckled. "You're a bit of a fool. You'll alwaysss be a child, won't you? A ssselfish little child who hatess to losse the shiny thingsss he growss dangeroussly fond of."

"Yadonushi's pretty damn shiny, then, isn't he?" Bakura said with a sigh. "Don't even answer that. Although, now that I think about it, he's either the most manipulative little bastard I've ever seen, or the most clueless. It isn't even fair what that kid does. The twerps in his dorm all think he's some hotshot, he can bat his eyes and get whatever he wants from teachers and anyone else, and

I'm going to the soul room."

"Wait. Have you made any progresss on a plan for Ryou?"

Bakura groaned. "Not really... I'd all be so much easier if-"

"If what?"

Bakura blinked. "I think I have an idea."

* * *

"But how did you do it? That's amazing, that anyone could be thinking so clearly while they're falling to their death to save themselves!" she said.

"I guess I just got lucky, is all. That, or I've got a guardian angel watching out for me," Ryou laughed.

Bakura seethed. /I'm about as far from a fucking angel as you can get/

/_I'm just teasing_/ Ryou said. "Angel, luck, I don't think it matters much." He yawned again. "I really am tired, though, so I'm just going to turn in. Goodnight, ladies," Ryou said, inclining his head politely. There weren't more than two or three males in the room anyway, and Ryou doubted that anyone other than his cousin was paying much attention to him.

"Goodnight!" they chimed.

/Damn sheep/ Bakura growled.

/_Be nice_/

Ryou trudged wearily up the stairs to the dormitory room and changed quickly. The others were still up, probably finishing their baths before chatting in the common room for a while, so Ryou pulled the curtains of the bed closed so they wouldn't disturb him when they finally came up.

He laid on his back for a while, but, eyes closed, couldn't seem to relax. He turned to his side, only to flop onto his stomach a moment later. He was so sleepy...

After a while, he settled into a fitful sleep that dragged him tooth and nail into the realm of dreams and nightmares. He was swallowed by a falling sensation that knotted his hair and raked icy fingers of wind down his back. Looming below him was a pool of merrily leaping gold- but it wasn't actually merry. The further Ryou fell, the more evil it seemed to grow.

It wasn't a pool- it was a cauldron, set up above a roaring bonfire. Flames licked up the sides of the pot, crackling in time with the screams that were growing deafening in Ryou's ears. He added his own to the mix and strained against gravity. But unlike earlier, when Bakura had been there to swoop in and rescue him, he was completely, mind-numbingly alone and falling faster with every passing second.

Ryou screamed louder and flailed wildly, clawing for anything and nothing that could slow the descent. Fast, too fast! And if the fall didn't kill him, the lava pool of gold would. If was futile. Ryou opened his mouth again and prepared to let out his final cry. Death was upon him, inescapable and looming over him like a phantom in the night.

"Ryou," Bakura hissed. His shoulder shook again and Ryou snapped his eyes open in terror. He almost cried out, and felt a hand clap firmly over his lips. "Shhh." Bakura was sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him, knees brushing against Ryou's shoulder.

/_Bakura? What are you_-/

/You were having that fucking nightmare again. If I didn't stop you, you'd wake the twerps in the other beds/

/_How did you- oh, mind link_/ Ryou sniffled. _/I'm sorry_/

Bakura looked away with a frown. /Just go back to sleep. And forget that stupid dream/

There was a soft hiccup and Bakura glanced back, surprised to see Ryou sobbing softly. "I-I can't," he whispered. /_I've tried everything. It scares me! And it was worse than usual tonight. I thought- I thought I was going to die. I was falling and you weren't there to save me-_/

/Why did you assume I would save you and not the pharaoh and his tiny host? I'm not a guardian angel, in case you've forgotten/ Bakura growled.

_/Because you won't just list me die_/ Ryou said with all of the sleepy, wide-eyed innocence of someone fresh from a sour dream. Even the voice in his mind was roughed by wavering sobs. /_As much as you may hate it, you need me_/

/Just sleep/ Bakura sighed.

Ryou nodded obediently, body shaking faintly as he closed his eyes and drew the covers back over his body. Bakura heard another soft hiccup. Chattering teeth filled in the rest of the silence. The slip of silver hair just above the edge of the covers wavered with every shaky breath.

Bakura groaned. He knew how this would pan out. His fingers brushed lightly over the silver locks, combing through them just hard enough for Ryou to feel the pressure on his scalp and tip his head thoughtlessly into the touch. Ryou's eyes flickered open, gazing up at the yami with large green orbs.

/_Bakura?_/

/Just go to sleep/ Bakura said softly. /And if you have the dream again just... just... picture me beside you. Alright? You aren't going to die. Not while I'm around/

Ryou smiled. /_Alright. Thank you, Bakura_/

/Don't- uh, don't mention it. Seriously/

_/Guardian angel_/ Ryou snickered to himself, snuggled under the covers. The shaking had stopped.

/Hold on, let's stop and think about that for a moment. I'm your darkness. Can you really see me with a halo and bright white wings? No, didn't think so/

/_Silly Bakura. You wouldn't have white wings, they'd be black. Fallen angels don't get white wings_/ Ryou said sleepily. The thought tapered off into another large yawn.

Bakura could just make out a soft whisper on Ryou's lips as the boy fell back asleep, the gentle mutter of, "My guardian angel has such sandy, black wings," before the breathing steadied out and became long and slow and easy for the first time in a week. Bakura smiled fondly at Ryou.

"You've got it bad," Uraeus breathed with a slight chuckle from his spot at the foot of the bed.

Bakura fixed a venomous stare on the serpent and extricated himself from Ryou's bed as carefully he could without waking him. "Do not," he whispered back, leading the snake down to the empty common room where they wouldn't disturb Ryou and the other sleeping Slytherins.

"Yess, you do," Uraeus retorted. "I haven't ssseen you sssmile like that sssince, well... ever. You've never made a faccce like that. You have to be in love with the kid."

"I'm not!" Bakura growled, kicking a table to dispel some of his irritation. His fist twitched spasmodically and he had a snarl on his face. As the decorative vase on top of the table clattered noisily onto its side, Bakura let out a sigh. "Well, maybe a little," he conceded. "I just... I just don't want to lose him like I've lost everything else. Does that make any sense?"

"Of courssse it doess. The pharaoh takesss everything from you without fail, and you know that if you're too clossse to Ryou, you'll losse him, too, so you push him away when you want to be clossse. It'ss perfectly normal to feel thiss way. It meanss you're human."

"But I'm not human! I'm dead, and I have been for thousands of years. I'm not just a greedy tomb robber, I'm a cradle robber."

"Ryou'sss a big boy, he can make hisss own decisionsss. And he'sss legal, if you want to get technical. Not that you're worried about that."

Bakura leered. "I'm dead. That's disgusting, don't even say that. It doesn't make me feel better."

"I know you were thinking it. You may lack human hormoness, but you sstill remember how they felt. Or at leasst, your ssubconsciouss doess. And your sssubconsciouss wants to nail the pretty little boy that would have been worth hiss weight in gold in Ancient Egypt."

"You... you're picking up slang far too quickly for my taste," Bakura only said, frowning.

"And you're avoiding the issssue. Tell me it'ss not true," Uraeus pressed with a fanged grin.

"Fine, it is. Is that what you want me to say? That when Hikari landed on me, and was sitting on me, all I could think about was how much I just wanted to- gah! No, I don't want to say it," Bakura growled.

"Sssay it," Uraeus sang.

Bakura's eyes flashed in the darkness. "Don't forget, I brought you back into this world, I can take you out."

"Oh, fine... I've presssed you enough tonight. At leasst you admitted that much," Uraeus chuckled. "You're a bit of a fool. You'll alwaysss be a child, won't you? A ssselfish little child who hatess to losse the shiny thingsss he growss dangeroussly fond of."

"Yadonushi's pretty damn shiny, then, isn't he?" Bakura said with a sigh. "Don't even answer that. Although, now that I think about it, he's either the most manipulative little bastard I've ever seen, or the most clueless. It isn't even fair what that kid does. The twerps in his dorm all think he's some hotshot, he can bat his eyes and get whatever he wants from teachers and anyone else, and when he smiled at me earlier and called me his 'guardian angel' like I was some hero, some goody goody," Bakura snarled, "he made me feel... guilty. Me! Guilty! Guilty for all the crap I put him through! How does he even fucking do that?"

"Loove," Uraeus chimed in a singsong voice.

"I'm going to the soul room," Bakura snapped.

"Wait. Have you made any progresss on a plan for Ryou?"

Bakura groaned. "Not really... I'd all be so much easier if-"

"If what?"

Bakura blinked. "I think I have an idea."

"What iss it?"

Bakura grinned. "Uraeus, you're getting so good at modern language. Tell me, what does the saying 'can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs' mean to you?"

"Breakfasssst?"

"Better look it up, then. It's one of my favorites."

* * *

**People said they liked Uraeus... so you get more Uraeus. Seriously, if you don't want him, just say so. I just wanted someone who could poke at Ryou and Bakura to keep the plot moving. I can kill him off if need be. I have a place for that in the plan if it needs to happen since I don't know what I need him for after that anyway. Just... speak up, alright?**

**Also, as mentioned above, the damn underlining kept vanishing (had issues with that in the last chapter, too). I assume you know that anytime anyone speaks to the snake, they're speaking Parseltongue.**

**Thanks, and don't forget to review! **


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